Author's note: Goodness POstables! This one was definitely a challenge for me but a challenge I'm so happy I took. FPWL is one of my top SSD movies. There is such a shift in relationships in this movie it's hard to know where to focus. You'll see that I don't include the "big" scenes as they actually happen. Instead I do them as recaps from Oliver's perspective. I can't tell you how many times I watched different scenes from the movie to try and nail down what Oliver's thoughts might be. There were some things that always gave me pause as I watched (like why the Mailbox Grille was decorated as much as it was and how Oliver managed to get a porch swing at that time of night) and I hope I was able to make more sense of them.
As for Holly's poem…I am no poet but thankfully Holly wasn't much of one either.
Thank you for reading and your lovely comments. As always these are not my characters. They belong to the incomparable Martha Williamson and were acted so beautifully by Eric Mabius, Kristin Booth and Poppy Montgomery.
Sunlight carved a path across Oliver's pillow. It was of no consequence to Oliver. He had been up long before the sun having spent a fitful night waiting and wondering when the still small voice would bring him guidance. This morning, in lieu of his current study of The Beatitudes, Oliver chose to study scripture for passages related to a burden that had weighed heavily on his heart for so long it felt like a backpack of school books you never removed. Holly's return brought to surface the private battle that had been waging within him for some time and that he now needed to face. Oliver scoffed. What would people think if they knew that he, Oliver O'Toole, the man who spoke about his faith with great conviction, always preached to do the right thing and held himself to high standards was, for all intents and purposes, a fraud.
Shoulders hunched over the table as Oliver worked by the light of a small lamp. Steam rose from the coffee he knew would be needed to shake off the cobwebs of a bad night of sleep. The crinkle of the delicate paper from his grandfather's Bible filled the silence as Oliver flipped through pages seeking verses that might bring him clarity and guidance. Occasionally a verse would strike a chord and he would jot it down using his grandfather's pen. Alternating between his Bible and his commentary he landed on Mark 11: 25-26. And when ye stand praying, forgive, if ye have ought against any: that your Father also which is in heaven may forgive you your trespasses. But if ye do not forgive, neither will your Father which is in heaven forgive your trespasses. There in the margin was the message from his grandfather Forgive and you will be forgiven. Oliver appreciated his grandfather's annotations written into the margins. They served as simple reminders of how a person of faith should live their life.
Closing his eyes Oliver sat with the verse for a bit. The last words of his grandfather resonated. Forgive and you will be forgiven. Oliver knew that to be true and yet something held back his heart from forgiving Holly. Oliver bowed his head. "Lord, I come to you a humble servant who has not lived up to your expectations. I ask you to open my heart to forgive Holly as I know you forgive me. You are the great healer and I know you will restore me from the hurt I have endured. Prepare me for the plans you have for my future whether that includes Holly or not. If it is your will for us to reconcile teach us to put you first in our lives and in our marriage every day. Thank you Lord for holding me close and I pray that during this season I can be a witness of your great love and compassion. Amen."
The chimes rang out their familiar melody from the grandfather clock sitting in the living room. Six gongs let Oliver know it was 6 a.m. This was usually the time he awoke but today it brought him out of his study time. Going back to bed wasn't an option so Oliver closed his Bible and his commentary and carried them to his bedroom leaving them on the table next to his chair. Oliver stood at the bathroom mirror his face white with shaving cream and razor in hand. He let the structure of his morning ablutions relieve some of his anxiety about what was to come. A full day of work ahead and dinner with Holly later in the evening would require all his faculties to be intact. When they'd parted the evening before the word divorce had been spoken but not discussed further. Oliver anticipated that this evening's dinner might reveal more clarity for their relationship.
The smell of paper, cardboard, metal and machine oil filled the air as Oliver made his way across the processing floor. This was his favorite time of the day. His pulse quickened as the energy from hamper carts and nutting trucks being wheeled along the floor gave him a rush. The clacking of conveyer belt rollers echoed in the cavernous space. Packages and letters by the thousands shot off in different directions depending on their final destination. He let the sounds and energy of the morning routine invigorate him. Feeling energized in spite of his night of sporadic sleep Oliver continued through the building satchel in one hand and his breakfast in the other.
He'd not noticed her at first. When she called out "Going my way?" He looked up toward the source of the voice. Black leather boots crossed at the ankles greeted him first. His heart raced as his eyes moved upward taking in the vision of her. He tried not to focus on the skirt but it hugged her in all the right places. Leaning over the railing, a mischievous smile on her face, she looked like a kid in a treehouse. He commented on her early arrival and it seemed sleep had been elusive for both of them. Oliver knew what kept him awake. What, he wondered, kept her awake last night?
"Come on up here with me." She called to him. Laughter bubbled at her suggestion and he was intrigued to know how she'd managed to climb the ladder in those boots and that skirt. Shane McInerney's persuasiveness could coax Oliver to do things that often went against his better judgement and after a couple more "come-ons" he found himself cautiously climbing the rungs of the ladder leading to the platform. An ominous creak sounded at Oliver's clumsy attempt to land gracefully. He scooted closer until he was situated a reasonable distance from his coworker so as not to cause any disparaging gossip from coworkers who may observe them.
With sympathetic eyes and a gentle voice she asked. "So, do you know what you're going to do?"
Oliver was not surprised by Ms. McInerney's forthright question. Her insatiable curiosity led her to query often. It was a trait he found equally useful in their work yet maddening when he was the target of her inquisitiveness. Absent this morning was the twinkle in her eye that usually accompanied her questions that led to friendly banter between them. Her empathy toward him was tangible and right now, in this moment, she wasn't just his colleague. She wasn't the woman who evoked feelings he knew were wrong for a married man. In this moment she was his friend and confidante.
###
The refreshing splash of cool water hit Oliver's skin as he leaned over the sink and used his hands to scoop water over his face being careful not to splash on his clothing. Thankfully the gentleman's convenience was still empty before the onslaught of morning shift postal workers. A row of sinks along one wall and a bank of storage units assigned to postal workers filled the walls opposite of them. Wet hands gripped the sides of the sink as he let the water run down his face and drip into the sink in droplets from the end of his nose. Red-rimmed eyes remained following his platform chat with Ms. McInerney.
Oliver pulled several paper towels from the dispenser and blotted his face. He had just bared his soul to Ms. McInerney. His full and candid disclosure about the lack of effort he'd made since Holly left and that he had yet to forgive her took him by surprise. What had Norman said yesterday about meeting Rita? He just felt safe with her? Oliver took a long look at himself in the mirror. With Shane's gentle encouragement he'd tearfully unburdened himself. She didn't admonish him, didn't make him feel guilty. Her gentle hand on his shoulder and the soft stroke of her thumb made him feel safe. "Forgiveness is doing the right thing, Oliver. That has to happen first and then you'll just know what to do next." He did know that. Now he just needed to settle it in his heart and his mind.
The morning in the DLO was unremarkable by ordinary standards. Rita's chatter served as white noise as they worked to reroute misdirected envelopes and packages. However much Oliver enjoyed Rita's loquaciousness, today it was grating on his nerves like mail with cute and clever return addresses. He'd read and reread the same paragraph in the report before him multiple times. He willed himself to keep his head down and focus but the occasional sigh or word of frustration from Ms. McInerney as she researched missing addresses brought his eyes to rest on her. At least until she looked up. As soon as her head tilted up he snapped his head back. After 30 minutes Oliver had no better idea of what he was reading than when he started. He knew he was going to be ineffectual at work until he took care of the things that occupied his mind.
Rising from his chair he turned his back to the rest of the room. While Rita and Norman may not pay attention to his comings and goings, he knew Ms. McInerney's curiosity would be in over drive following their morning discussion. He took his jacket from the coat rack and put it on buttoning the top button. His eyes closed and he relaxed into the memory of her thumb caressing his shoulder. He slipped into his overcoat breaking the recollection of their morning conversation. Buttoning and tying the belt he turned to face his colleagues. "Excuse me all. I have some matters to attend to out of the office. I will return later this afternoon." All three of them stopped what they were doing and watched as Oliver quickly made his exit.
"Ooh! What's that all about?" Rita quizzed.
"I bet it has something to do with Holly." Replied Norman.
Shane peered her eyes over her screen at Oliver's empty chair. She kept her eyes on her screen and said nothing.
Several hours later Oliver returned, his overcoat covered in a dusting of snow. His hair was damp where the snow had melted against the heat of his head. Removing his gloves and coat he shook the white crystals from the material. Turning toward the team he asked. "I'm back everyone, did I miss anything?"
Shane got up from her workstation and walked toward him. As she approached he stepped back unwittingly keeping distance between himself and her. Separation from her until he had more clarity on his situation seemed the wise thing to do, for both of them.
Brows furrowed she said. "Oliver, Joey Castelucci called."
Alarm sounded in Oliver's voice. "And what does he want? We've fulfilled our duty, delivered the letter and following last night it seems everything is fine between he and Caitlyn."
Shane sighed as Oliver finished questioning. "Calm down Oliver, nothing is wrong. He wanted to invite us to the Comedy Club he and Caitlyn go to. He's planning something special for her and he wanted us to join them."
"Oh, well, uh." Cheeks turning red knowing he'd overreacted Oliver struggled with his words. "I'm, uh, sorry. I will be unable to attend." Rearranging items on his desk enabled him to avoid her eyes as he continued. "I have, uh, other plans for the evening." He sat quickly glancing up to see Shane still standing there. Her lips pressed together into a thin line. Was that sadness or disappointment in her eyes?
Her voice quavered. "Oh, well, that's too bad." She stuttered. "Norman, Rita and I will go and represent the DLO." She turned on her heel and returned quickly to her desk, head down, her face hidden behind her screen.
Oliver clasped his hands together on the desk his gaze resting once again on Ms. McInerney's blonde hair. He was sure her curiosity had been piqued by his decline of Joey's invitation to join them at the Comedy Club. He turned his chair around so he was out of sight of his colleagues. He leaned over cradling his head in his hands. He wanted to tell her his plans for the evening, the dinner he had planned with Holly to finally determine the next steps in their marriage. At the same time, he knew it wasn't fair to put that on her given his suspicions about her feelings toward him and, he had to admit, his feelings toward her.
"Ahem." Oliver startled and turned his chair to be faced by Ms. McInerney. "Mr. O'Toole, if it's okay with you I would like to leave early today. I worked through lunch and I have a few things to do before meeting the Castelucci's tonight." Shane stood with her bag and coat in her arms.
What could he say? "Of course, Ms. McInerney, by all means please take the time to do what it is you need to do." Oliver watched her as she left and missed her as soon as the doors swung closed behind her.
He sent a silent prayer to the heavens. "Lord help me stay clear minded and focused on the evening ahead. Whatever transpires I pray for strength, compassion and understanding. Amen." Prayers usually brought peace for Oliver but the next few hours would likely determine the direction of the rest of his life and, right now, peace seemed elusive.
Oliver's pace picked up on the short walk to the Mailbox Grille. By the time he arrived he was chilled to the bone. The early spring arctic cold snap Ms. McInerney had complained about earlier in the week was still with them. He'd been at the restaurant earlier in the day and had spoken with the manager about renting out the facility for the evening. It was an unusual request but given Oliver's long-standing history as a customer they were willing to help him out. Oliver's choice of the Mailbox Grille was not happenstance. Other than his home, his church and the DLO, the Mailbox Grille was a place most comfortable to him and tonight he needed whatever comfort he could muster.
The manager had set out boxes of Christmas lights and candles for Oliver to use so he got busy decorating. He took his inspiration from how beautiful the DLO had looked on Christmas Eve just a few months before. He covered a table with a purple tablecloth and added a candle, some flowers, stemware and silverware. The décor may have been a bit over the top but it was Oliver's way of showing he was willing to make an effort. Should Holly choose to leave for good he could be rest assured that he'd done what he could to make things work. But in the end it was her decision and if it wasn't going to be then he could close the book on his marriage with no regrets.
###
Oliver opened the taxi door for Holly. Once safely inside he took her hand and kissed her knuckles. "Be well Holly." Back inside he walked from candle to candle blowing each one out. His heart felt lighter having been relieved of the burden that weighed him down for so long. For the first time in two years he felt hopeful about his future.
Dinner started awkwardly neither sure where to start. Oliver's question about her book was all that was needed for her to start talking. He listened attentively as she went on about living in Paris, writing her poetry, and being "discovered" and published. He smiled and nodded at the right times all while holding his breath anticipating the real conversation that needed to take place. "I wrote a poem about us." She'd stopped him before he read it. "I want to say how sorry I am that I took so long to come back. I shouldn't have waited but the longer I waited the further away the road home seemed. But I'm here now and I just hope that we can…"
Oliver's lips curved up slightly as Holly apologized for waiting so long to return. Was it the apology he felt he deserved after all this time? No. But he reconciled that it was as much of an apology as Holly was capable of and in that moment the small still voice inside him whispered 'forgiveness.' Muscles he didn't even realize were tense softened. Ms. McInerney was right. Forgiveness was the right thing to do.
"Shall I read it now?" His hands trembled slightly as he unfolded the paper and read silently.
Dreams
We met by chance
We thought it was fate.
You were my hero
When I needed one.
Our passion carried us through
Until it was gone.
We no longer could see
through each other's eyes.
But now it is time
For me to be my own hero.
I could not do so
Without you showing me the way.
From you I learned so much
But now it is time to teach myself.
And it is time for us to see
Our dreams through our own eyes.
The paper fluttered under his heavy exhale. His voice was barely above a whisper. "Is this what you want?"
Wiping a lone tear her lips turned up into a smile and she nodded. "Yeah."
Peace, relief, exhilaration, anticipation all came together and Oliver's smile stretched broad across his face as an involuntary chuckle took his breath.
The rest of their evening went by in a blur. He surprised her with a dance and he reminded her she'd asked him to learn. His smile hid his thoughts. Yes, when he started the lessons it was one of the ways he wanted to show he was making an effort in their marriage but by the end it was because it was something he did with Shane.
Oliver spun Holly around until their faces were just inches from each other. She was a beautiful woman and as their eyes held and their lips grew closer, they leaned in and their lips brushed against each other's in a soft and gentle kiss. When he pulled away Oliver whispered. "Good-bye Holly. I wish nothing but the best for you."
As the last of the candles was extinguished Oliver clicked open his grandfather's watch. It was 10:30 p.m. If he stopped now the emotions of the day would give way to exhaustion and there was still so much to do.
###
It was two a.m. when Oliver arrived home. His cheeks were red not just from the cold but from the rush of exhilaration that had been flowing through him for the last hour. His fingertips were numb and his knuckles were stiff but he didn't care.
Taking time that afternoon to go shopping for Ms. McInerney's birthday gift and having it delivered to his house had been providential. He knew it was risky buying something with such an emotional attachment for her before things were resolved with Holly. But after their morning conversation it just felt right to do something special not just to say happy birthday but also as thank you for being his friend.
The swing came in a very large box. Oliver leaned it against the side of the Jag. Adrenaline enabled him to simultaneously lift and push it to the top of the roof. Yards of rope and more deft maneuvering secured it in place for the drive to 4251 Yellow Bird Way. It was just shy of 11:30 p.m. and with equal effort he was able to get it off the top of his car and up onto Ms. McInerney's porch. He set to work immediately building what he hoped would evoke happy memories and spark joy.
Oliver's attention was focused on the level so he didn't hear her approaching until her boots hit the wooden steps up to the porch. His head snapped toward her when she called his name. The weapon she wielded looked suspiciously familiar. This time he was the one whose curiosity was piqued when he saw she carried a box with all the contents of her work station. Not sure if it was the cold or the last of his adrenaline rush wearing off but his mind was fuzzy as Shane explained she was leaving the USPS for good. After several back and forth barbs it finally dawned on him that she was under the impression that Holly was staying.
Oliver's heart leapt remembering how her smile dazzled when he told her Holly was gone again and this time for good. The only thing better than her smile was sitting next to her on the swing gently rocking and showing her the crocus in her yard. Their eyes met and held several times. A bubble of warmth surrounded them and his stomach fluttered wanting to kiss her so badly. But tonight was not the night, not after everything that had happened with Holly. No, when he kissed Shane McInerney, something he had every confidence would happen someday, it would be as special and magnificent as spring itself.
