April 1977
"And then what did he say?" Bette propped impatiently, ignoring my attempt to change the subject.
"He said I had a lot of potential. That I was one of the greatest minds to pass through his office." I lean back against the wall behind the dark wooden bench. The courtroom's on the other side of the wall. Olivia's on the other side of the wall. I don't want to discuss my life.
"And you said?" She's never known when to drop anything.
"I said thank you, but I needed to be a dad for awhile before I could try to be a doctoral student." Why is this so hard for everyone to understand? Olivia needs me. My child needs me to be around for him or her. I'm not going to have a child who's raised by nannies. This is my child and I'm going to be there.
"Then he shook his head and hoped he'd see me again soon. That I wasn't the-" I pause and try to get the taste of failure out of my mouth. "Type of person who would be content changing diapers and chasing kindergartners around the playground."
"Ooo.." She winces for me and shakes her head thoughtfully. "Sorry Greggie. That had to be tough to hear."
I shrug, trying to figure out just how I feel about it all. My hands are sweaty as I rest them against my legs. "It's not that I don't want to get my doctorate. Sometimes it's my greatest ambition. It's the light at the end of the tunnel. The whole reason I kept going to school all these years-"
"But-" There's always a but with her. No one can get away with their secrets.
I fidget with my hands, wishing I had something to play with to take my mind off things. "I can teach without it. And it's not like I need a job. God knows Olivia makes enough money for both of us."
"Not to mention dear old mommy and daddy's inheritance." Bette points out as she taps the Rolex on my wrist. "But I know you just want to be useful."
"Is that really too much to ask?" I wonder softly as I shuffle my feet on the floor. "Can't I have my wife and my children and a little bit of work on the side?"
She rubs my shoulder and shakes her head with a soft smile. "Maybe you can. You're still young."
"I think I'm getting older by the second waiting for her." I leave the bench and wonder if pacing will make me feel any better. "What does your watch say? Two-fifteen?"
Bette looks obediently down at her wrist and nods before she opens her purse. "Yep."
"Olivia should have been down by now. The tee time I got for Judge Emerson and my father is at three. He must be planning to fly down the coast to the course." It was a pretty good trick, making sure Olivia's case won't run too late. "Can I just barge in there and steal her?"
Bette checks her lipstick in the mirror and smacks her lips together. "Of course you can. I just don't think she'd appreciate it very much."
I tuck my hands in my pockets and wish I could just have a conversation with my wife instead of playing chess with her. I'm still musing when Bette forces me into conversation again.
"-Are you sure?" I missed the beginning of her thought.
I turn to her and try to concentrate as she asked her question again. "I'm sorry Bette-"
"You said you thought she was in labor, I was wondering if you were sure." Bette plants her hands on her hips. "I doubt most women could conduct a trial while they were having contractions."
"But this is-"
"Olivia." We finish together. Bette wraps her hands around my arm and rests her head on my shoulder. "So what are you going to do?"
I lead her back to the bench. Pacing is just making it worse. Bette curls up next to me, dropping her shoes to the floor. "Convince her it's going to be okay."
Bette chokes before she manages not to laugh. "I'm sorry. It's just hard to imagine anyone convincing Olivia of anything."
"I know it's not going to be easy." I admit as I check my watch again. "But there's a chance."
"Same chance a snowball has in hell." Bette retorts firmly.
I knock her off of my shoulder and threaten to tickle her side to shut her up.
Bette jumps away, laughing playfully and getting us a stern look from the security guard down the hallway. "So what's your big plan?" She asks as she tries to settle down next to me and appear mature.
I rub sweat off my palms again and smile at her sheepishly. "Play dumb."
Bette gives me the scathing look she usually reserves for ex-husbands. "I can't believe they even let you on the grounds of an institute for higher learning, let alone thought about giving you permission to work on a doctorate! Saints in heaven. Genius IQ and your best plan is 'play dumb' -" She furrows her eyebrows and gives me the death look again. "Oh all the stupid, idiotic, no good, insane little plans from left field-"
The courtroom doors suddenly open, ruining her tirade and the plaintiff hurries past us in a huff. Olivia must be doing well. The opposing council looks like he's been forced to swallow his lunch money. I remind myself not to run into the courtroom.
If Olivia hadn't been fussing with her briefcase, I never would have had time to compose myself. I force a smile. The most relaxed, laid-back smile I can muster. "Looks like you're winning sweetheart."
Olivia looks up from her briefcase with exhaustion as she slumps down into her chair. "We'll be back Monday to go at it again." Her cheeks are flushed, but the rest of her face is unnaturally pale. Her eyes look like they've been awake for days. Dark circles mar the pale skin beneath them.
I just smile again, pretending not to notice anything about her. I lean over the table, shutting all her work into her briefcase. "i'll just have to keep you from thinking about it until Monday then."
Olivia manages the barest of smiles in return. Even her lips are tight. I can't help wondering how long she's going to keep of the charade. Keep playing the quiet game of how long she can ignore what's happening to her body. "I'd love to go home. I just-" She closes her eyes for a second, and I can watch her knuckles tighten on the handle of her briefcase. "Have to stop at the office first. There's so paperwork I need to deal with."
I pull myself up on the table and swing my feet around to rest on the edge of her chair. "I love the office."
Her choking slightly is the closest I'm going to get to laughter from her today. "You do?" She teases as she starts to get up from her chair.
I drop down to help her. Making sure her legs are ready for her weight. For once Olivia doesn't bother to protest, in fact, she clings to me for a moment and I realize how hot her skin is when her forehead presses against my cheek. I hold her against me, wishing for the millionth time that I could take her fear away. I watched my sister bring my nieces into the world. I watched her convince her husband everything was going to be fine with a smile on her face. Cohonesto et Amore. Do honor to love, the stodgy old family motto I never understood until I held Olivia.
"I'm going to get the car, all right?"
Olivia's head bobs slightly against my chest. She stiffens slightly with another contraction and I glance down at my watch and wish I had the forethought to look at it a moment ago. How far apart are they? How much time do I have to convince her to stop being so stoic?
Deeply reluctant, I leave her in the courtroom. She's still standing, but her hands are on the table, as if she's bracing herself again. I can't just leave her. I have to remind myself twice that she's fine. That if something was wrong Olivia would let me take her to the hospital. Wouldn't she?
Bette grabs my arm as I leave the elegant black Jaguar idling just in front of the steps to the courthouse. "How is she?"
"We're going to the office." I offer with a helpless shrug. "Maybe we'll have the baby there."
Bette's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "How can you joke about this?"
I kiss her cheek and laugh painfully. "Someone has too. If I let myself worry, I'll never be able to help her."
"It's always about her, isn't it?" There's a softness in her tone I rarely hear from Bette.
"I'll see you later." I remind her firmly as I hurry back towards the courtroom and my wife.
"Don't you have anything else to say? What about your meeting? What about your dissertation?" I try to escape her line of questioning as my feet slap against the marble floor.
"What meeting?" Olivia asks weakly as she drops her hand away from her face. I hurry to her side, wrapping my arm around her back.
"I just had to talk to my advisor, you remember, Dr. Burkett, you thought he was rather pompous at that luncheon." I shake my head at Bette over Olivia's shoulder. Reminding her to stop now.
"What was it?" She takes my hand and squeezes it. "Gregory?"
"It wasn't important." I kiss her forehead and glare at Bette. "Come on, let's go to the office. You had things to pick up."
"You're ruining your life!" Bette snaps as I try to lead Olivia past her. Olivia stops us, clinging to me. There's pain in her voice.
"He's what?" She hisses, wincing as she grabs at my arm.
I drop her briefcase, listening to it clatter as I steer her towards the first bench in the courtroom. "Sit down." I rub her shoulders, letting her try to pull herself together. "You'll be okay."
"Shouldn't you take her to the hospital?" Bette wonders with her usual tactless honesty. Of course I should take Olivia to the hospital. She should be looked after. She should be protected.
"Oh I'm fine." Olivia insists as she stands up quickly and forces a nearly convincing smile. "Really. That's entirely unnecessary."
Neither of us believe her, but I don't push her. I need her to trust me. I smile easily as I pick up the briefcase. "Okay then. Let's get to the office so we can go home, huh?" I turn pointedly to Bette I lead Olivia out to the car. "We can talk about my life later."
I'm shutting the door on Olivia's side of the car as Bette mutters, "As if you still had one outside of her."
"What did you say?" I shouldn't turn on her. I shouldn't be so angry.
"I said 'as if you still had one'" Bette repeats as she stands up to me. "Outside of Olivia of course. She does keep you rather busy. What are you now? Her chef? Chauffeur? Secretary? Travel agent? Personal trainer?"
Frustrated, I throw my hands up in the air. "I love her Bette."
"No." Bette argues as she pulls me away from the car. "You're obsessed with her. You live and breathe her."
I leave her hand on my arm and shake my head weakly, throughly confused by her anger. "She's my wife." I turn back to the car, making sure Olivia's all right. Her eyes are closed. I have to get her out of here.
"That doesn't mean you have to make her the center of your universe." Bette turns my attention back from the car. "God, I'd be the first to know that."
"I'm sorry." I hiss with more venom than I expected. "Maybe I don't want to base my marriage on the Bette Douglas theory of relationships. I would like to get past my- what's the farthest you've had? 3rd anniversary? 4th?"
Dropping her hands from my shoulders, Bette was hurt written all over her face. I'm the one person who doesn't judge her for being on her fourth marriage already. The one person she trusts. "Ouch." She sighs as she moves out of my way.
"Oh Bette." I shouldn't have said that. It shouldn't bring that up. Bette doesn't have it as easy as I do. "I'm sorry. I really am." Olivia's hand clenches down suddenly on the handle above the door. "I have to go." I hug her suddenly, tightly. "I'm sorry. Tomorrow? Okay?"
Bette kisses my cheek, forgiving me in a moment. "Go, take good care of your baby. Both of them."
"I will." I squeeze her hand and mouth thank you as I hurry to the car. I settle in to the driver's seat and buckle my seat belt. Her eyes are still closed next to me, but her knuckles are white on the door handle. She's not even letting herself breathe.
"Liv-" I begin gently as I rest my hand on her arm.
She shakes her head. She won't be able to speak for another few moments. I touch her cheek and it shocks her into breathing again but she's breathing too hard. Too fast. I take her hand off of the arm of the seat and pull it into my lap.
"It's all right." I promise as if it's as sure as the sunrise tomorrow morning. "You're going to be all right."
She sighs, shuddering as the pain abates. "I'm all right." Olivia starts to open her eyes but she turns away from me quickly when there are tears in them. She won't even trust me to see.
"How long?" I ask softly, reaching out to touch her cheek again. I run my hand back through her hair, trying to reassure her as best I can.
Olivia shakes her head, still unable to face me. I turn her chin towards me and force her to look. "How long?"
"I'm fine darling." The fake smile is back. She straightens up and lets me wipe tears out of her eyes. "Come on. I have things to get from the office."
"We need to talk-" Olivia leans across the seat and kisses me ending my question.
"I don't know if I can." She whispers before she pulls away from me. "I'm-" She crumbles and the way her fingers dig into my shoulder give away the pain she has to be going through.
I reach across and wrap my arms around her shoulders. "It's okay to be scared." The engine purrs in the hood, ignored by both of us. "You don't have to be strong all the time."
Olivia just shakes her head, burying her head further into my shoulder. "-I can't-"
She had more to say, so much more, but I can't get any of it out of her. Instead there's a flood of tears. Not the tears of a grown woman. Not the way she cries when she's Olivia Richards, but she's a lost little girl who never knew her mother. The child who blamed herself for an accident of fate.
"I love you." I remind her because it's the only think I can think of to say. My answer for everything, as foolish and simple as it is. I should know something better. I should be able to say something deep and meaningful, but instead I hold her close. "I love you."
She lifts her head, wiping at her face even as she struggling to find her breath. "Why?" Olivia lets me take her hands, and to my relief she clings to me. "God- why, how can you love me?"
"Because I do." I kiss her cheek, tasting tears on my lips. I fish my handkerchief out of my pocket and hand it to her. I let her keep my right arm as I try to coax the car into gear with just my left hand. "To the office then?" If she's not ready to go to the hospital yet, we can wait it out. Her doctor said to bring her in when they got less than five minutes apart. How long has it been? How long has she been hiding this from me?
She lets me help her out of the car, and as we stand in the lot beneath her office, one of the contractions she isn't having nearly knocks her off her feet. For a moment she almost has to admit what's happening. But I can't bring it up. I keep her close as we go up through the elevator, as if I'll lose her if I let go. Bette might be right. I might have too much of myself wrapped up in her. I just wouldn't know what to do without her.
"I just need to get some things out of my files." Olivia explains softly.
"Don't worry about me Liv. I have-" I make a face as I pick it up. "The Yale Law Review to keep me company." I settle into the couch and watch her. I learned some time ago that it does more harm than good to try and help her. She prefers to work alone. I start humming as I leaf through the stuffy volume. I can't help myself. My mother used to hum to me when I was a little boy. It's one of the rare little things I remember my mother doing with me. I'm not going to be that kind of parent. My children will know too much about me. They'll be able to name every song I hum to myself. They'll-
I hear the splashing, water running down against the carpet. I look up in confusion, trying to decide what Olivia's knocked over. I didn't hear a glass hit the floor. "Gregory-" She gaps, terror chill in her voice. "Gregory-" I nearly trip over the coffee table in my rush to get to her. Olivia can't stand up anymore, she drags me to the floor next to her, eyes wide and white in fear. "Something happened-" She gaps again, trying to regain her breath.
"Your water broke." I explain as gently as I can. Her clothes are soaked. Clear fluid pools all around her feet.
"I know-" She groans sharply, shaking her head as she tries to find a way to speak. "Something-" Olivia's hands close down on my left hand hard enough enough to make my fingers complain of the sudden lack of circulation. "Something-" She bites back something that could have been a scream.
With quiet fascination I run my hand up the wet fabric of her inner thigh. There, hard against my hand through the black silk of her suit, our baby.
Olivia's eyes bore into me. "Gregory- what- what-"
"I can feel the baby." I explain dumbly as I wipe my hand on my shirt. "It's right there."
She shakes her head, trying to say something that her body can't spare the energy to voice. Instead she moans and sinks back against the desk. I start taking off her shoes, setting them aside as I reach up to take off her pants. "Breathe sweetheart."
Olivia writhes against the desk and I look quickly around her office. Late evening on a Friday, there isn't even a janitor to yell for. I should call an ambulance. I start to get up but she grabs my hand. "Don't leave me."
I can't explain to her that I'm calling a doctor. I don't think she could hear me even if I took the time. "You're going to be okay.'
Olivia gasps, and she's not even trying to bite her pain back anymore. Maybe she can't. I have to keep talking. "I'm going to take your pants off and see if I can see the baby. She must have nearly fallen all the way through when your water broke."
"Just don't leave-" Olivia whispers before she's breathing too hard to speak.
"I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to right here with you and everything's going to be fine." I remind myself that the more I believe it, the more she'll believe me. "Everything's going to be fine." I slide her pants off as she lies back on the floor. It shouldn't be the floor. I reach for the sofa for a pillow for her, but she grabs my hand and pulls it back down to her chest. "Okay. I'll stay here."
She nods, sweat that wasn't there a moment ago suddenly running down the side of her neck. Dark blonde hair. Our baby has dark blonde hair. I can't help laughing.
"She's going to be blonde Liv." I rock up on my knees so Olivia can look into my eyes. "I think you need to push."
She shakes her head, turning her eyes away from mine even as her fingers beg me never to leave her aside. Olivia opens her mouth, but it's a whimper instead of a scream. Even now she can't let herself scream. I lower my hand to her face, and finally I help her back up.
"You have to push."
"I-" Olivia's never looked so lost. "I can't-"
"How many times do I have to tell you? You can do anything." Be calm. I remind myself as I pull her into my lap. How many times did I space out during the one lamaze class she let us go to before she mysteriously became to busy to ever attend them. Did they cover delivering your own child on the floor of the office?
I can feel the sweat through her blouse as she leans against my chest. I take both of her hands, feeling her cling to me. There's certainly enough strength in her hands. "Do you remember how to push? We talked about it at your last appointment."
Her teeth click together and I decide to take the motion of her head as a nod. She groans and tugs my hands. "You're going to be okay. I know you'd rather be anywhere but here." When her breath stalls I tap her cheek. "But you have to keep breathing. Do that for me, okay?"
"Gregory-" She cuts off, hissing in pain before she pants her breath back. "Gregory-"
"We're going to push, and I'm going to help you." She shudders back against me and I wait for her to tense when the next contraction starts. When she starts to scream I force her up, helping her as best I can.
She collapses against my chest, even her hair is soaked through suddenly. "We have to push again."
"No-" She's sobbing, and I can feel her chest shaking. "No-" Crying sharpens into a scream and we're pushing again. Her body trapped inside mine as I force her up. I guide her hand down between her legs, and together we touch the little round head.
"That's our baby Liv." She pulls our hands away like she's been burned. She's not ready, but she doesn't have a choice. Another contraction and something rips free inside of her. She's still sobbing, panting, screaming- but I can't take my eyes away. Slowly, as if she's the only thing in the world, the slimy, blue- gray body of our daughter slips from Olivia's body. Tiny hands squirm against the chill air, and Olivia's eyes suddenly open as the pain disappears.
I reach down, letting Olivia take her own weight as she lowers herself to the floor. I'm almost afraid to touch her, but I can't leave her on the floor. I reach behind me, grabbing the suit jacket I almost didn't wear because of the heat and lay my daughter reverently on it. With the corner of my shirt sleeve I wipe blood from her angel face. Tiny eyes flutter beneath my thumb like a fairy creature. I wipe her mouth, and her nose as best I can. I wrap her up as I search Olivia's desk. There's a letter opener on the corner by the drawer but that wouldn't be nearly sharp enough. I reach into the pocket of my jacket. My grandfather said a pocket knife was the most practical thing a boy could have.
I need string. I untie my shoe and rip the lace from it. I tie two quick knots and free my daughter from her mother. When I lift her up to look at Olivia, she finally starts to cry. It's a little sound, like rain against a window in the morning.
Olivia looks up at me without a single thought in her face.
"She's beautiful Liv." I lower the baby to her chest, watching her skin pink up in the darkness. Realizing I'm going to have to do something with the mess of blood and afterbirth, I follow that with the realization that I don't care. I rest my hand on Olivia's naked knee and watch her face become something pure. All her terror, all the horror of the last few months. Every terrible thought Olivia held inside about this moment- gone.
Evaporated into the air. Gone like the pain Olivia's already forgotten. I stroke her face, not even noticing the blood drying on my sleeve.
"Gregory-" Her voice is hoarse and rough with tears, but she's still smiling. "Oh Gregory- you were right."
I lie down next to her, wrapping my arms around my family and forgetting about everything I should be doing. "I'm entitled to be every once in awhile. I won't be again for at least a year. I promise."
Olivia laughs and I could float away on that sound. She reaches for me, her hand trembling slightly in exhaustion as she touches my cheek. For a single, perfect moment her heart is free in her eyes and she shares it with me. After that, words are a waste of time.
June 1997
Alex lifts her hands into the air and grins wickedly as she winks at me from the doorway of my office. "One word- Bail."
I shove my chair back from the desk and rush to hug her. "Oh thank god. I was so worried about you in that cell." She kisses my cheek, lingering there long enough to make my heart skip a beat. "How? You're accused of murder, they don't just let murders walk free-"
"Oh they do if they have Olivia Richards as a defender." Alex beams at me as she holds my hands tightly, nearly brimming over the top with enthusiasm. "She's brilliant."
Thinking of Olivia used to make me smile. Today it's all I can do to keep the smile on my face. "She is."
Alex sees right through me. She always has. I used to wonder if Olivia had the same ability. At least until I realized she never asks what I'm thinking because I'm too predictable. Boring, predictable Gregory, who always reacts the same way. Who wears his heart on his sleeve and never makes anyone wonder what he's thinking.
She touches the worry on my brow and tilts her head. "What is it?"
I retreat back behind my desk, trying to put some distance between me and her warm, yielding body. I shrug and sink into my chair. "Just that time of year. Would you believe how many term papers I have to grade?"
Alex shakes her head, ending my oposition. "You're upset." She begins as she puts it together in her head. "You got upset when I brought up Olivia."
"I'm thrilled she got you out on bail." I offer in a poor attempt to placate her. "I will never cease to be amazed by her legal skill and decorum in the court room." I lift my red pen without seeing the paper in front of me.
"That was nearly sarcastic." Alex reaches around my shoulders and rubs them with gentle hands. "I'm impressed. You never used to be any good at it."
Dropping the pen as she sinks strong fingers into the well of pain in my back, I close my eyes and rest my head in my hands. "What can I say? I live with the best."
"Did you have a fight?"
A knot of muscle pops against one of the vertebrae in my neck and I shudder in relief. "No fight." I sigh and try to sort my mind. "At least, not one I know about."
"Did she say anything in particular?" Alex fishes, as she investigates the stubborn muscles surrounding my spine. "I'm sure trying to keep me out of prison is every bit as stressful for her as it is for me."
"She lives for stress." I reply bitterly as I turn my chair around to face the one woman who seems to really understand me. The one woman I should be looking at the way I am right now. Her simple fitted tee-shirt is the kind of soft cotton Olivia only allows herself on vacations. I can follow the line of Alex's bra strap through the thin fabric. "Worships it. Seeks it out when she doesn't have enough of her own."
She drags the chair in the corner over to me and sits in it backwards. "Then why are you angry?"
"I'm not angry!" I snap before I realize how futile it is. I am angry. It boils in my stomach. When Olivia whispers, do you love me? I reply immediately. I reply every time she asks. Every, single goddammed time. I shake out my shoulders and sigh heavily. "I am angry."
"Making progress already." Alex rests her chin on her arms. Smooth, lightly tanned arms that hold the chair in front of her. "Why are you angry?"
I could lie. I could force this feeling away- "She never says it." I whisper before realizing just how deeply I've failed.
Alex tilts her head, waiting for an explaination.
"When I say 'I love you'-" I shake my head and try to tell myself it's rediculous to be so upset. "She never says it. She kisses me, or takes my hand, or just goes back to sleep. She never says it. God, Alex I can't remember the last time she said she loved me." Suddenly my chest hurts like I've been running. My throat's getting tight.
"She comes home in the strangest moods. One minute she can't wait to get out of my sight, and the next she seeks me out. She asks me to come to be with her. She goes out in the middle of a thunderstorm to watch the water." I study my own clasped hands and wonder when my wedding ring became such a burden. "She's always cold. She's always looking for something but she never gives me anything."
"You love her." Alex reminds me simply to pester the rest of the story out of me. "You've always loved her."
"I've always done a lot of things." I leave my chair and remember to shut the door to my office before I let myself get too far out of hand. "I like my coffee with heavy cream. The heaviest I can find. I put my socks on before I put on my trousers. I hate courderoy pants because of the noise they make when I walk."
Alex lets herself laugh. She laughs so easily.
"What if I'm wrong and the cream I put in my coffee every morning is going to be what finally gives me a fatal heart attack? What if I should be leeting my feet breath the extra few seconds and put on my socks last. Perhaps courderoy isn't so bad after all." I'm rambling, circling the one thing I'm terrified that I actually am going to say. How can I admit it? How can I even think it?
"What if you shouldn't be in love with her?" She asks it for me. She lifts her head from her arms and watches me crumble.
"She doesn't-" I shake my head. I rub my shoe against an imaginary streak of dirt on the floor. I shove my hands into my pockets.
"She doesn't?" Alex prods gently. "You really think she doesn't-"
I can't let her finish. "I don't know what I think anymore. She's avoiding me. She leaves before breakfast, she comes home after dark. She crawls into bed after I've started pretending to be asleep. Olivia does everything she can to pretend I don't exist!" My heart pounds in my chest, begging both to be released from this torture and tormented until the end of time. "And then she kisses me like I'm the only man in the world. As if I'm the only person in the whole dn universe that she can be herself with."
I can't look at her when I say it. "We make love like we're dying. She's nearly in tears when we finish and Olivia never lets herself cry. She didn't even cry when Caitlin was born."
Alex pulls my hands out of my pockets and holds them thoughtfully. "These were the first hands to hold your daughter." There's something elusive in her eyes. Something dancing just out of sight. "I can't imagine how wonderful that must have been, how amazing it was to watch her skin turn pink as she took her first breath."
I cling to her hands. "I can't help wondering what would have happened if I wasn't there. If-" Olivia's never been safe. Not with the ghosts who follow her around. "I had let her go alone."
"She needs you." Alex rubs the gold of my wedding band thoughtfully. "I don't think she realizes how much."
I pull my hands away. I can't look at the way the light glistens on the moistness of her lips. When she lay on my chest, glowing with spent energy, I felt something. Something so old it seemed almost new to me again. "Olivia doesn't need anyone. Least of all a dried out failure like me."
Her hand stings as it slaps across my face. Alex puts her hands on her hips as she studies my shocked expression. "You're welcome. Self-pity never did anyone any good. Yes, you've made choices that brought you here instead of the British Museum, but you made them. Not Olivia, not your parents." She taps my chest. "You. And you were happy. You are happy." She points to the quiet chaos of my desk and grins. "You like this."
"Would have liked the British Museum too I'll wager." I tease with a smile as I let it go. "Something's wrong." I run my hand through my hair and remember how pale Olivia was when she left the house this morning. How strange she's been when we sleep together. "I'd swear she's avoiding me, but we can't keep our hands off each other. She pulled me into the shower this morning and we-"
"That's good!" Alex cheers with a wry smile. "Making love is a good sign."
I open my mouth, but close it as I watch a lone sailboat join a group in a race to the sunset through my window. "What if it's not love?"
"You don't hurt her, do you?"
"No no-" I settle back down in my chair. "It's not like that. We just- Everything's there, the motions are all right. It's, frankly, amazing to be so close to her again-"
"But you never been farther away." Alex finishes for me as she returns to the chair across from me like a patient little cat. "I've never had you ask me if she loves you before."
"I've never." I begin and the darkness in her eyes flutters across her face.
"Gregory- there's something I need to tell you."
I scoot my chair over to close the distance between us. Grinning at her foolishly to get the sadness out of her face. "It's your turn I suppose. Just remember that every minute you spend complaining about your life is twenty minutes I get in return."
"Oooo" She winces playfully as she caresses my arm. "The exchange rate's gotten worse."
I shrug and scoot back towards my desk to start packing up for the day. "Must be inflation."
"Gregory-" Something in her voice begs me to turn around. To look at her while she-
The knock comes sharply, startling us both. Jenny, the perky little student teacher who's spent the last semester with me leas in apologetically. "I'm so sorry to bother you, but we've misplaced the list of students in the Mock Trial and Knowledge Bowl groups. We've looked everywhere, I remember most of them but we have to get this yearbook page done today and I'd hate to print out a thousand of them only to get some poor kid's name wrong and you're so good with names-" She's always been able to fit far too many words in a single breath of air.
"I'll be right there." I drag Alex to her feet and hug her.
She relaxes into it and starts accepting my apology before I even have a chance to give it. "I'll be here. Can't let some poor kid be mortified just because I can't wait a few minutes." She pushes me towards the door. "Go on, I want to see what kind of games you have on your computer..."
I give in and follow Jenny into the hallway. "I'm sure we can sort it out."
I tune out her reponse and just nod at the appropriate pauses in her story. Alex will be waiting for me when I get back because she said she would. She'll say what she needs to say and we'll talk about it. It's simple. Beautifully, heart warmingly, simple.
Unlike everything else in my life.