What are you afraid of?
Author's note: This story idea was posed to me by Laura D. and it's putting me back in the mind of Oliver during a pivotal time in his relationship with Holly and Shane. Laura asked for my take on what made Oliver smile after he read Holly's poem during their last dinner together. I'll get to that in the next chapter but I had to go back a bit before tackling that part of the story. I hope you enjoy. Comments are always welcome. I hope you enjoy this dive into Oliver's thoughts.
As always, the characters are not my own but the creation of the amazing Martha Williamson and so beautifully portrayed by Eric Mabius, Kristin Booth, and Poppy Montgomery.
Chapter 1
The weight of his grandfather's sliver pocket watch rested heavily in his jacket pocket. The intricately etched cover was rough against Oliver's fingertips as he reached in to retrieve it. Pressing the latch, the cover popped open to reveal the time…4:30 p.m. He'd used four of the five minutes Ms. McInerney had given him "to be weird." He paid the bill but waited for Norman who stood, shoulders hunched, forefingers and thumbs tapping against each other nervously. Both men watched Rita dancing with Ramon. With his velvet jacket and slicked back hair, Ramon was the mysterious man always showing up at the weirdest times. He seemed bent on going out of his way to impress Rita whether offering his coat or inviting her to a poetry reading. Norman's downturned lips and watery eyes fixed on Rita convinced Oliver to ignore Ms. McInerney's mandate that they had five minutes to get back to the DLO. He would get there but right now his friend needed support and encouragement.
Oliver's lungs rejected the deep breath of frigid air he attempted as he stepped out of the Mailbox Grille. He'd done his best to encourage Norman…his guidance "Love can only survive on swagger and charisma for so long. Rita needs a man of true character" was not lost on him. Was he talking about Norman's relationship with Rita or his own with Holly? There had certainly been no lack of swagger and charisma during the short time Oliver and Holly were together. But after her disappearance he'd come to realize that Holly was not a woman of true character.
He knew what a woman of true character looked like. She had blonde hair and blue eyes that showed a hint of green depending on how the sunlight hit them. She had an insatiable curiosity which sometimes bordered on stepping over the line but was always used for the greater good. She was also caring to those around her, willing to go the extra mile to help someone in need, and recognized the good in every situation. And, though they were just colleagues and friends, she had become the person he looked forward to seeing the most every morning when he went to work.
Squeaky swinging doors announced his arrival in the DLO. The scent of lavender and orange blossom assaulted his senses and stopped him in his tracks. Yves Saint Laurent. He knew it intimately often inhaling it when his kisses to Holly left her lips and made their way to her neck. He'd given her a bottle for her birthday. The only birthday they spent together. Could it really be her?
His breath caught in his throat as he was met with two pairs of expectant eyes, one seductive with batting eyelashes and the other panic stricken and wide-eyed. Both women watched and waited for him to say something. Oliver, who cherished words, studied language and could break down word origins in a single breath, was at a loss. With barely a whisper all he could muster was a feeble "hi."
The red hair that he'd often lost himself in during the early days of their marriage was pulled back with soft bangs framing her lightly freckled face. The black and white dress paired with a red coat gave off very Parisian vibes. His heart was torn in the presence of the two women. While his mind remained committed to one, even through the pain of her absence, his heart was drawn to the other on a level far deeper than anything he'd ever experienced with his wife.
Holly bit her lower lip and cast a seductive look toward Oliver. Her eyes fluttered and she greeted him with a breathy "Hi." There was a time when her flirtations would make his palms sweat and his knees weaken. He thought for sure the pounding of his heart could be heard echoing through the DLO. Holly standing in front of him should have brought him a level of excitement and relief that she was back and his waiting had not been in vain. Instead Oliver felt as though his legs had been swiped out from under him. Clasping his hands in front of him he took a moment to get his bearings. His eyes stayed focused on Holly but it was Ms. McInerney's distressed expression visible in the periphery of his vision that he found agonizing.
"Well, Mr. O'Toole. I still have some work to do on those divor..those papers for Mr. Castelucci, so…"
Ms. McInerney's swift departure was obviously a desperate attempt to remove herself from the highly charged situation as quickly as possible. Oliver knew that to be true because, in fact, the papers were sitting on his desk as they had been since the previous day.
"Yes, thank you Ms. McInerney."
Once alone husband and wife took tentative steps toward each other. 5,000 miles of separation was now reduced to a few feet yet neither of them seemed able to take the last steps to close the remaining gap between them. Oliver's unrivaled eloquence eluded him and he stood quietly trying to piece together a sensical sentence.
It was Holly who spoke first. "I always thought I'd know what I was going to say."
Snarky Oliver reared his ugly head and thought 'an apology would be a good place to start' but he tempered his response to "I read your poem!"
Holly's face lit up. "Which one?"
"How many have you written?"
"I have a whole book of them coming out this Fall."
"Really? Well done. You always said you wanted to be a poet."
Holly was quick to answer. "I've always been a poet; I just didn't know it."
Oliver chuckled. "Did you mean to do that?"
"What?" the blank look of confusion on Holly's face begged further explanation.
"You just said know it and poet." Oliver waited for some sign of understanding.
Holly's head cocked to the left; her expression still blank. Nervous laughter filled the space between them. "I'm so sorry, I'm not following.
He struggled to meet her eyes when she said she'd gotten a room at the Brown Palace. While she may have taken it as disappointment he knew the truth. As soon as she said Brown Palace he felt his breathing regulate and the muscles that had tightened around his jaw began to relax. The image of Holly returning to the O'Toole home had flashed through his mind when he asked her where she wanted to sleep. What would he have done had she wanted to return? Would she have expected to move back in as though she'd never left? He'd lived the life of a monk for two years and she was a beautiful, desirable woman. Physical intimacy was the one area of their marriage that had never been an issue. Oliver bounced and clasped his hands behind his back trying to focus on the here and now rather than memories of the past. Yes, they were still married. But while Holly might think all aspects of their marriage were "on the table" Oliver knew sleeping with his wife would not be advisable, at least not during the early stages of any potential reconciliation.
When Holly invited him to drinks later at the Brown Palace a giant countdown clock filled his head with its bright red numbers counting down the hours, minutes, and seconds until life as he knew it was going to change. If she stayed he would do what he said in his letter to her. He would be willing to change and to see her dreams through her eyes. If she left it would be the beginning of something else. He just wasn't sure what the 'something else' was.
After Holly left Oliver sank into his leather desk chair and buried his head in his hands. After his letter had been re-routed to Holly in Paris he knew it was possible she might return but never did he expect her so soon. After his initial mailing of the letter the summer prior and no response he'd all but given up on finding resolution to his marriage. Now all the emotions were back to the forefront and would be dealt with whether he was ready or not.
But before he could think about all of that there was still the matter of the Castelucci's divorce papers that needed to be delivered. It was still early but it was a restaurant. Dinner with Ms. McInerney would take his mind off Holly and their quandary. Not to mention he could really use some clams and red wine.
The silence between Shane and Oliver was deafening as they dined on red wine, clams for Oliver and chicken parmigiana for Shane. The flickering of the candle in the middle of the table held Oliver's attention more than his dinner. Staring into the light the fingers of his right hand rested lightly on the smooth gold band on his left hand. Needing to cut through Oliver's pensive mood Shane offered to relieve him of their mission and handle it herself. Finally breaking free of his thoughts Oliver insisted that he was exactly where he needed to be. "This is what we do best. We deliver." 'We' he thought. He and Ms. McInerney, the two of them together. Would the revival of his marriage affect their work together?
"We are good at this aren't we?" Shane smiled in agreement.
Joey's story about what really happened with the letter softened Oliver's insistence that Caitlyn was the rightful owner of the letter and it should be delivered only to her. But when Ms. McInerney shared Oliver's belief that things happen for a reason and the importance of having faith to know that all worked together for good, it only seemed right to reverse his decision.
Joey's relief quickly turned to panic when Caitlyn arrived followed by Norman waiving the letter. Thankfully a crisis was averted as the two worked out their past pain. When Caitlyn told Joey forgiving was what they did, Oliver couldn't help but meet Shane's longing expression. Yes, forgiving was what they did too.
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At 10 p.m. Oliver stood in the lobby of the Brown Palace Hotel waiting for Holly. Her proclivity for being late gave him time to reflect on what Ms. McInerney said earlier in the evening. 'Things happen, all the time, that at first may seem all wrong. But when we have faith that something greater might be at work all those things just end up working together for good.' Was that what was happening now? Was Holly's return all wrong but would it work together for good?
The time was 10:25. Oliver walked over to the house phone and waited for the operator. "Miss Holly O'Toole's room please." And then she appeared on the upper landing. Red hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders. Butterflies flittered in Oliver's stomach and though he was conflicted about her return and what it might mean for his life, there was no denying her beauty or his attraction to her. Was that attraction enough to bring a dormant marriage back to life?
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Serenity wrapped its arms around Oliver as he stepped into the front foyer of his home. There were two places that evoked this sense of peace, his home and the DLO. It was late and it had been a day fraught with the unexpected. A cup of chamomile tea was in order and he took comfort in his evening tea making ritual. Once wrapped in his bathrobe and comfortably ensconced in his grandfather's chair Oliver sipped from one of his grandmother's teacups and allowed the delicate floral liquid to work its soothing magic on his weary body and mind. Ending the day over glasses of champagne had not brought him and Holly any closer to resolution.
For two years Oliver had believed Holly had moved on with her life with little thought or regard to him or their marriage. Today he realized that somewhere in Holly's thoughts or maybe in a far corner of her heart he remained because she'd written a poem about him, The Night of Snow. Not a very good poem, per Ramon, but one filled with passion. Her question at the end of it but what shall I do with my life now? Now that I can see the sun. What did that mean?
The answer to his own question remained unspoken. The question had been posed to him the summer before at the hospital. "Then what are you afraid of?" was asked by Shane whose tear-filled eyes and shaky voice revealed feelings Oliver had long suspected. She thought he was afraid to mail the letter. No, that wasn't it. Mailing the letter wasn't what he feared. It wasn't even that his wife might show up after her extended absence as she did today. No, his fear was the uncertainty of what his life would look like should Holly decide to stay in Denver and reclaim her position as his wife.
He'd promised in his letter to Holly to try and see her dreams through her eyes. Being a man who preferred order and certainty in his world how would it feel to see the world as Holly did? How would he adjust his life to help her live out her dream to travel the globe with nothing but a backpack, a journal and a few nice pieces of Chanel? Those questions turned his stomach to knots.
Oliver picked up his grandfather's bible and did the only thing he knew that could help him find the peace he so desperately craved. Opening to Philippians he turned to chapter four. Be careful for nothing; but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.*
He read the verse over and over. Getting up from the chair he moved to the edge of his bed and got down on his knees.
He clasped his hands and bowed his head. "Oh God, please comfort my anxious heart. I bring before you my worries and turn them over to you. I know that the plans you have for me are far greater than any that I could imagine on my own. I put my life and my future in your hands and ask that you take this situation that is causing angst, not just to myself but others that I care about, and turn it around for good. Thank you for gifts you continue to provide me with every day. Thank you for the people in my life who are there to support and encourage me in times of distress. I turn this over to you Lord. Help me to listen for your voice. In Jesus' name. Amen."
Getting up from the floor Oliver crawled beneath the covers resting his head on the downy softness of his pillow. As weary as he was mentally and emotionally sleep would not come. He lay contemplating his next move. He would see Holly again tomorrow evening over dinner. Surely further discussion would ensue. For Oliver's part, he had turned it over to God and would trust that He would work all together for good.
*Philippians 4:6-7 KJV