Felicity
She jumped out of the SUV and followed Sharon up the sidewalk.
"The floor's weak on the porch, step left." Sharon still stood on the porch as she fought the lock but finally the woman managed to unlocked the door, and she followed Sharon into a cluttered room.
The room smelled like stinky gym socks and a dirty litter box, and she worked to conquer her gag reflex as she walked in.
Frack.
The smell gagged her and she couldn't stop the back of her hand from covering her nose.
Sharon didn't seem to notice as she hurried to breathe through her mouth, though she wanted to pinch her nose and block out the smell.
A fat black cat waddled toward Sharon getting under her feet and almost tripping her. The woman caught herself against the wall right before the fat cat meowed loudly seeming to try her best to take the woman to the ground.
"Damn it, Muffin."
"Muffin?"
"Yeah, the cat. Stupid cat's going to outlive me. Come on, I'll feed you. Make yourself at home." She threw the words over her shoulder as the cat purred loudly and followed her down a hallway tail high.
Her eyes swept the living room, and she'd thankfully gotten over the smell enough to move her hand.
But she still breathed through her mouth.
Hung on the wall, a set of small souvenir spoons from eight different states caught her eye. Large white circles of some type of string art lay on the end tables, golden glass with tarnished brass lamps sat on the works of white string art. She told herself that she'd snap a picture to look up the name of those useless decorative pieces later.
But what the heck?
No time like the present.
She reached for her phone and snapped a couple of pictures.
The heavy wooden furniture looked old with its farm scene pillows. A matching rocker with more string art thrown over the back dominated the room. The wooden coffee table scarred and scratched, matched the couch with dark stained pillows on each side.
The wallpaper hurt her eyes.
Its design covered in blue vases of flowers with lots of scroll work, though it peeled at the ceiling and on some of the walls the wallpaper was missing, torn off in hunks. The one bright spot in the room, a flat screen TV, sat on an antique TV that was so old it was still in a wooden box and had knobs.
A real record player covered in a thick layer of dust sat on a crowded desk, along with junk mail, and cups that held pencils, markers and paintbrushes. A fresh faced young man named John Denver smiled back at her with tiny round glasses from a record cover, and she shook her head.
Had she somehow time traveled back to the seventies?
Not that she'd been alive or even been thought of in the seventies. But she'd seen a lot of the Seventies Show.
And this room had clearly time traveled back to the seventies.
Something clanged in the back of the house and Sharon cursed. "Fucking cat. Give me strength."
Taking everything in, she headed down the hallway after Sharon as she noted four doorways in the hall. One, of which, didn't have a true door.
She stared.
No, instead, lengths of glass beads hung covering the doorway.
She stopped and frowned looking at the glass multi-colored beads hanging over the doorway and was still looking and frowning when Sharon appeared at the end of the hall.
"Felicity, there you are. Hey, give me a few minutes. I'll pack a bag. You need a drink the kitchen is that way." She pointed behind her. "The bathroom." She pointed right. "It's there. Sorry, but you have to hold the handle down to get it to flush. Then jiggle it to get it to stop running water. But it does work if you need to go. Now, I'll be quick."
"Okay. Not a problem. I'm in no hurry. You do know he's going to be in surgery for hours. We've got time. Lots of time."
"Yeah. I know. I told him to be careful. Damn it, I knew. Just knew, he'd drive away and mess up. He's a great kid, but he's a bull in a china shop. Always has been. So, Ned, made over. I love him for that though. Love them both."
Stop staring at the glass beads, she told herself.
And don't ask.
She pressed her lips together to hold back the question. Her eyes shifted back to Sharon's frame. "Right, pack, but first take a shower and wash the sand away. We've got time. We're just going to drive an hour and play hurry up and wait for him to get out of surgery."
"You're right."
"Right, I've still got my fingers crossed."
"Yeah, me too." Sharon nodded. "Please, make yourself at home. There's sweet tea in the fridge if you're thirsty."
"How sweet is sweet?"
"Give you a toothache sweet, just like my Gram taught me."
"Okay, then. Probably not going to drink the tea."
Sharon grinned at her. "Your loss." She gave a slight nod before she walked past her and disappeared behind the multi-colored beaded curtain then returned a few minutes later to disappear into the bathroom.
She glared at the beaded curtain again.
Truly?
Who used a beaded curtain today?
Sharon, did, it seemed.
Turning, she surveyed the hall taking in the old pictures on the walls.
Pictures of Sharon as a child, wearing a tiara, waving in several parades, smiling as prom queen and unbelievably, her wedding picture with the picture discretely folded with only Grover's bodiless hand showing.
No, that's not creepy at all.
But it was.
She took a picture with her phone to share with Oliver later as she heard the shower start up.
How did Sharon walk past that picture every single day?
Her brain processed, and she realized that Sharon must just ignored that picture.
That's what she would do.
She'd ignore it.
No, she'd have thrown it away or better yet photoshopped the man out completely.
Moving on, she smiled at the pictures of a cute chubby Adrian as a baby with a bunny, a toddler holding a football, a slimmer kindergarten picture, then one with little suit complete with a tie standing next to Santa.
All professionally done.
Someone had paid a lot for professional pictures.
She guessed that someone would have been Sharon's Gram.
More pictures hung on the wall.
Many included a tiny elderly woman.
One who looked proud, old and ancient.
Yet, very few pictures of Sharon existed after Adrian was born. Mainly Adrian was the focus. And he just kept growing. Pictures and pictures of Adrian growing up and turning into an adult.
One large family picture of the three of them hung in the center of the hall when Adrian looked to be an early teenager.
About thirteen.
Maybe more? It was hard to tell since he was large.
But she noted the only picture of Sharon smiling was her wedding picture and in every picture afterwards the woman eyes looked sad.
She frowned as she continued down the hall to find the kitchen hiding behind a swinging door.
The seventies continued full force.
The fridge looked kind of new but the cabinets were painted a hideous faded yellow, and the vinyl flooring matched with interweaved yellow and brown circles and squares.
A banged up yellow tea kettle sat on the gas stove and some black metal cast iron spoons hung from the walls.
A tiny microwave sat lost among the dirty dishes and pile of trash overflowing the countertops. The table was also piled up, along with the kitchen chairs.
And Oliver thought she was bad leaving her clothes on the floor.
She pulled out her phone and took pictures.
She'd show him.
But one fact hit her straight in the face.
Sharon reminded her of Oliver. She was a ghost, a person who lived on the fringes, leaving almost no footprint.
Yes, everything in the house screamed Sharon's grandmother. No trace of Sharon existed in this room or the living room. The woman had called her house, "Gram's house," and she'd meant it.
Because, clearly, Sharon's house belonged to her Gram.
She'd bet even the fat cat who crunched dry cat food in the corner belonged her Sharon's grandmother.
How did you live in a house for almost eighteen years and leave no trace of yourself?
Even she had things that she'd brought with her into her and Oliver's new life. Silly things like the earrings she'd wore for their first date.
The ones they'd gotten blown up with.
The ones she'd bled in.
But that wasn't the point.
Regardless, she'd loved those earrings like she loved her countless high heel shoes.
Okay, she owned too many shoes and too many earrings but a woman needed variety.
Except for her man.
She didn't need any variety when it came to Oliver.
He continued to be her one.
Oliver was more than enough. Her one and only.
As if he'd knew she thought of him, her phone rang.
"Oliver," the screen proclaimed and she answered it with a soft, "Hey."
"Where are you?" His voice gruff, demanding and impatient.
"Well, hello to you too. I'm still at Sharon's house. You?"
"In the waiting room. Alone and waiting."
"Any news?"
"No, I'm not family. No one's telling me anything. How long before you head this way?"
"Still a while. Since you're bored, how about you go and do some shopping for me?"
"Would love to. Text me a list. But remember I'm on the bike."
"Done. And we need to talk later."
"About?"
"Sharon."
"Not surprising. Okay. Text me. And fair warning, I got your message and if you call try to call me Snookum's I won't answer. Believe me, one Snookums in this small town is enough."
"Since when do we have a Snookum's?" She grinned.
"Since Ned inherited an ankle biting pure breed named Snookum's from his parents."
"You're kidding me. Wait, you never kid. Well, add Snookums to me standing in the Seventies Show and this just keeps getting better."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Know that but can't wait to share with you. It's a TV show."
"Of course, it is. I've heard enough now. You can stop."
"I bet it's on Netflex."
"Not watching it."
"You don't know what you're missing. You know your TV education's sadly lacking."
"I'll survive. Text me that list. I'm hanging up now."
"Okay, but I want you to know I'm still going to get you to watch at least one season."
"There's more than one?"
"Eight. Two hundred episodes."
He groaned. "Have you lost your mind? Do I need to point out that I'm never sitting through that much TV?"
"And do I need to point out that I'm not fond of ankle biting dogs. Frankly, they scare me. Fair warning, I'll need you to protect me when we install the tech at Ned's."
A small chuckle answered her and again her face lit, glad she could make him laugh since he never used to laugh. Now, he not only laughed, sometimes, he belly laughed.
"Got you covered. You have to know that I'll always look out for you. Now, Ned warned me that the darn dog he inherited could bite one of us. But back to nicknames. What are you thinking? I could do, maybe, Babe? Or maybe, Sugar? You?"
"Babe?"
She recognized the tiny grin in his voice and couldn't contain her smile as he added in a low sexy voice. "Yeah, maybe, Babe. I think I like Babe the best, since you're such a Babe. I love that you're such a Babe. What do you think? Jesus, I sound like a teenager."
She ignored his last sentence. "I think can do Babe. I like it." A small giggle escaped from her mouth, and he barked another laugh.
"You do?"
"Yeah, I do. Love you, Babe."
Sometimes they were totally on the same page.
"Text me your list." His voice gruff again, all business.
"Will do."
"And get Sharon moving. Riley and Ned are already headed this way."
"Will do. Love you. Bye."
"Love you. See you soon, Babe. I can't believe I just called you that. But, Felicity, you have always been a Babe." He laughed again and ended the call while she grinned.
She returned to the hall and couldn't help it. Sharon still in the shower, and nothing but beads to stop her, she looked into Sharon's room.
Entering, she stood and scanned the room and finally found Sharon's presence in the house.
Paintings, ink and pencil drawings, filled the walls. Hundreds of tiny drawings and paintings, tacked with push pins, adored the four walls of Sharon's room. So many they covered the dated wallpaper.
Butterflies of all sizes with tiny colorful patterns on their wings.
Fairies, who's every fine feature breathed life, flying off the page.
Gnomes, some with pointed hats and beards, some not. All of them alive and working. Tiny hammers and picks in their minuscule hands.
Castles flew flags in cloud filled skies.
Dragons flew and roared fire.
Fluffy clouds with rain and rainbows filled the corners and spilled out onto the ceiling.
Unicorns reared and flew in those rainbows and clouds.
Angels smiled or winked filling the upper corner of one painting as over lapped purple and yellow flowers blew in the swirling breeze.
Each painting or drawing more beautiful and moving than the last.
Each painting or drawing held a certain light, turning the flat paper into something else, something special.
Something great.
Something in Sharon's work led the person looking to no long think they looked at flat piece of paper. No, instead, the paper seemed alive and in motion.
Sharon had talent.
Real talent.
Special talent.
Her paintings and drawings walked off the page like something living.
Pictures that breathed life into their own tiny worlds.
She squinted her eyes, noting each tiny face on the paper was unique. Some faces caught in laughter, others soft with innocence, while others winked or pursed their lips.
Each of them looked sweet and special.
Sharon, clearly, possessed real talent.
Talent that made her feel and realize that someone should share Sharon's talent with the rest of the world.
Her pictures were that special.
Pulling her phone out, she snapped pictures, intending to share them with Oliver.
Dripping wet, wrapped in a towel, Sharon walked through the beaded curtain and froze.
"What do you think you're doing?" Her tone harsh. "I didn't invite you in here. This is my space."
"I know." She clinched her eyes shut before she opened them and added. "Sorry, but not sorry. Look, I'm noisy. First, you have no door."
"I have a door." Sharon swept her wet hair back with her hand before she pointed.
"No, you have beads." She shook her blonde head. "Glass beads do not equal a door. Ask around. Beads are not a door." She had to ask. "Why do you have beads by the way? Most people have wooden doors."
"They work for a door for me." But the woman didn't meet her eyes. No, instead she looked away and hugged the towel tighter.
Her brain started processing and like normal she blurted out. "There's a reason you don't have a door. Isn't there?"
"I . . . just like beads. That's all. There's no reason." The woman turned ghost white and pulled the towel closer.
"Hmm, okay then. Hey, if you like beads you like beads. But there must be a reason. Why is that?" She crossed her arms in front of her chest.
Sharon bit her bottom lip and released it and the hand that held the towel in place trembled. "No reason. Look, I need to get dressed. Could you wait in the living room or something?"
"I didn't mean to pry but when I glanced in I saw your art. You're very good."
"It's not art. Just practice. Doodles, nothing more. It helps pay the bills. And trust me I've got plenty of those."
"It is art and they're wonderful." She smiled and Sharon's cheeks turned pink. "You're very talented. Each tiny picture tells a story. What kind of paint do you use?"
"Nail polish and tiny brushes."
"Seriously."
"I do nails." Sharon shrugged. "I'm good at it. People like my nail polish art on their nails. So, I practice tiny things. It's no big deal. People like silly things like butterflies, angels and dragonflies. I draw them on people's nails. They dig them and tip me extra. This isn't art," she waved the hand not holding the towel, "it's practice."
"No, it's art." She nodded. "And I can believe that people like it. Would you do my nails? I'll pay you. Tip you extra too. I want arrows though."
"Arrows?"
She grinned thinking about Oliver. "Yeah and tiny bows." She couldn't resist and waved her hands about thinking about tiny bows and arrows on her fingers and toes. "Can you do that for me?"
"Never have but let me practice, and then yeah, I could totally do that for you. And, of course, you'd want bows and arrows. What else?" She tilted her head before she added. "And in green right?"
"Yeah, I want them in green. How did you know?"
"Well, since, Coach Queen is the Green Arrow what other color would you want?"
Breathing became hard, her heart rate sped up, and now, she bit her lip and stared at Sharon as the woman went on. "Don't look so shocked. Jesus, we all know who he is. You know that right?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." But her voice cracked.
"No need in lying about it. We all know. Have for months. Ever since you drowned and he came to the town's attention."
"Could you clarify we?" Her voice squeaked and she made finger quotes while her mind scrambled to grasp what Sharon was saying.
Sharon walked over to a closet, which also didn't have a door, and she pulled a nice pair of jeans off a hanger. "Anyone that is in the gossip loop knows, which includes most of the entire town. They're all talking about it and have been for months."
"About what?"
"Not what but who?"
"Who?"
"Why you both, of course. I'm the one who never graduated. And, I heard you were smart?"
"I am."
Sharon tilted her head. "Not meaning to insult you but it's not showing."
"I . . ."
"Everyone here has internet and knows how to use it. Not much to think about. Small town or not, we're not stupid."
"I didn't say that."
Sharon turned and opened a dresser. She threw a fresh bra and panties on the bed followed by a rose colored t-shirt. As she added, "Oliver Queen is the Green Arrow. He's a known vigilante and a hero. The fact he pulled you out of the rip tide and brought you back to life, then refused to leave your side while you were sick is just icing on the cake. And then today, he crawled into a burning car to save Adrian."
"Ned crawled in that car too."
"Ned had a reason to crawl into that car to save his son but your man," she shook her badly done blonde head, "He had no reason at all to crawl in that burning car, except he's a hero, and he cares about one of his team." The blood drained out of her face as Sharon continued, "Just saying, but Adrian looked Coach up, and I heard him talking to one of his friends. The team's sure their coach is the Green Arrow."
She couldn't stop the sharp inhale.
She wanted to but she couldn't.
It came long and hard and her stomach dropped.
"Yeah, all of us know. We like that he's strong enough to keep our bad boys in line." She shrugged. "I know Adrian's a bad boy. Just like his father. Apple didn't fall far from the tree. Ned stayed in trouble back in the day."
She blinked. "We are are talking about probation officer Ned Walker right? The one who makes the team toe the line? The man who walks the straight and narrow and never smiles. That Ned Walker? Right?"
"Yeah. That's the one. Ned, who, stayed in trouble when we were kids. He liked action. He'd set the trashcan on fire in school, so we could all pile outside and make the teachers crazy." She shook her wet badly bleached blonde head. "He drove the teachers and principal crazy. Back then he was the joker, the class clown. Adrian's like that too. Always, joking. Tricked me too. I never realized he'd been cutting. I should have noticed." She hung her head. "I'm such a shit mom sometimes. But with my track record that's hardly surprising."
That hit her hard since she believed that moms worked hard at raising their kids, and she knew Sharon had been a single mother, who worked harder at raising kids than people who had a partner to help.
"Don't say that. Sharon, you're not the first parent to not notice their kid's cutting themselves, nor will you be the last. They hide it. They're embarrassed. They don't want to do it, but I've read they feel compelled. Now that Oliver busted him out, he can get help stopping."
She didn't add, "If he lives."
But she wanted to.
And it took some serious concentration on her part not to let the words roll out of her mouth. But she knew those words were the last thing Sharon needed to hear.
"Jesus, first Adrian cutting and for the first time I can talk about Adrian's father like a real person. I need to take my meds and get dressed."
"Meds?"
"Yeah, I'm on some meds."
"Blood pressure?" She thought of Oliver.
"No, some other stuff. Pills for my nerves. I've got bad nerves."
"Anti-depressants?"
"Yeah, something like that. Took them for years. I'm kind of crazy if I don't take my pills."
She wondered what kind of crazy but didn't ask. Instead she agreed. "Then you should take your pills. Be sure to bring them with you."
Sharon sighed. "Right, good idea. And I do want you to know that me and some of the others are grateful that your man's such a good team leader because our bad boys can't push him around. Truly, a lot of people, including me, are happy to have his help. Teens are a real pain in the ass. But, Adrian's been better since your man's become his coach. He's had focus and practices all the time with his soccer ball."
She fought not to look down, not to look away, not to smile (though she wanted to), and she almost managed to keep her expression blank and she like the idea that Sharon called Oliver "her man."
Sharon tugged on her towel as her heavy breasts fought to fall out of the fuzzy material. "Felicity, trust me, everyone has secrets. That's the way life works, believe it or not. And, since I do nails and work in a beauty salon, I hear a lot of women's secrets."
"You work in a beauty salon?"
"Yeah, and that means I know what's happening in this town, though some people keep better secrets than others, but believe me, most women talk more than they should." She cocked her head. "And, they're all talking about your man, his past and him being the Green Arrow. Shit, they're proud he's picked our town to settle down in. They're proud to have you living here too."
"They are?" Her head ached as she processed that the entire town knew Oliver's secret identity.
Highlight the words "Secret Identity" as not being very "Secret."
"Yeah, they are. And you're some kind of super hacker computer nerd. Yeah, they all talk about you too."
"They do?"
"Of course, they do. People are bored and you and Coach Queen give them something to talk about. Now, I need to get dressed. I'm standing here dripping wet, and I need to get headed to Corpus and check on my boy. Think you could you step out and give me a few minutes alone to get dressed?"
"Right. Sure. Of course, you're right. I'll step out then. This is me stepping out." She looked away, looking once more at Sharon's paintings.
And she stepped out.
Her hand on her phone, she touched her way to Oliver's number.
"Hey, Felicity, or should I say babe?" She heard the grin in his voice and savored it. She never thought Oliver would grin enough she could hear it through the phone.
"Hey, Snookum's." She joked.
"Didn't I tell you not to call me that?" He growled. All the smile instantly disappearing from his tone.
"Got ya. You're too easy."
"I'm not."
"Yeah, you are."
He barked a laugh. "Felicity."
"Oliver, I have news. Important news."
"Not surprising since it's you. Spill."
Yet, she heard his smile as she spilled.
When she was done, he asked. "So, Sharon's on meds? Maybe crazy. And you're freaking out that the town people know who we are? Right?"
"That about sums it up. I'm thinking we should worry."
"Why? I'm hardly surprised they've looked us up. I'm well aware a lot of people know who I am. They've mentioned it to me. So why wouldn't more of them check us out? You would have. And if those people are okay with who we are then why worry about it?"
"It's just weird that people know after all these years we've spent keeping things on the down low. But you're right. I would have checked us out. That makes sense."
"Good, now stick to the task at hand. Get Sharon to Corpus. Ned's already in route. Then we'll do some follow up and see what happens."
"Right. Sharon's also an artist."
"Good for her."
"Nails."
"You're kidding me?"
"No. She's very talented. Has a gift."
"For nails?"
"Yes, for nails."
"Okay, I trust you. You know that? So I'll leave the nails to you."
"Felicity, you ready to go?" Sharon called.
"Got to go. I'll see you in an hour or so. Okay?"
"Yeah, I'll see you then. Felicity?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you, Babe. I think I like Babe. You?"
Her laughter lightened her chest. "Works for me."
She heard the grin in his voice. Still laughing, she swiped to hang up the call.
Sharon stood beside her and hitched a pink, large, bag on her shoulder. "I'm ready to go. Let's go see Adrian. Please God, let him live through this."
"Okay." She nodded and pushed open the screen door.
"Remember the porch's rotten over there. Know I need to fix it but I don't have the money. I'm barely getting by some months between the taxes, the fees and my meds. And Adrian was cutting. Damn it. How could I not notice?"
"A lot of people don't notice. Don't blame yourself." She stepped wide and headed toward Sharon's SUV, wondering why Sharon's porch had rot, why the woman sounded broke, what kind of pills Sharon took and exactly for what.
"Sharon, I want you to know that Oliver and I are here to help you."
"Okay."
"You don't sound convinced."
She shrugged, her face hard. "I've learned that most people bail when the going gets rough."
"No, we're here for the long haul. Like you said Oliver's a hero. It's what he, what we do. We help people."
"You mean it?" Sharon's eyes darted back and forth.
"You planning to do my nails with green arrows and bows?"
The woman nodded. "Whenever you want them. I'm ready. I'll make them the very best I can."
"That's what I need. Your best."
Sharon nodded.
The ride dragged. Sharon played on her phone, then the woman turned the music on but finally they rolled into Corpus, and she found the hospital and the parking lot.
Grinning, she picked up her phone and called Oliver.
He answered with a growl and the words, "You finally here?"
"Ya, Babe, I'm pulling into the parking lot right now."
"Good to know, . . . Snookums." And he laughed out loud.
At his own joke.
And she giggled because Oliver Jonas Queen, AKA the Green Arrow, AKA the Hood, had made a joke and laughed out loud too.
"Oliver, have you noticed that our life finally has reached good?"
She heard his grin as he answered, "Yeah, you're right it is. Love you, Felicity."
"Ditto. See you in a few minutes."
And she grinned and hit end.
#####OQ#####
Hope you enjoyed this week's story. The Bonus chapter is already up on my website. Please if you like my story, support my site. www. Write4TVFans. Com (remove the spaces) click on Bonus Chapter on the top bar and enjoy the next chapter today. Oh, as always thanks for the read.