Chapter XIV: A Beachside Contemplation
Author's Note: All previous disclaimers apply. I don't own these characters nor the Signed Sealed Delivered canon. They are creation of Martha Williamson and I'm just grateful I get to play in the sandbox with this wonderful source of inspiration.
There was something special about a walk on a solitary strip of beach early in the morning. Oliver wasn't known for enjoying the outdoors, but the gentle breeze, the scent of salt water in the air, and the feel of the gritty, golden sand on his bare feet were a few things he could get used to. Marbella, on the southern coast of Spain was undeniably gorgeous. It was a shame that right now he didn't feel like he could enjoy Marbella to its fullest. Oliver exhaled. Returning to Denver was going to be tough. As much as he wanted to stay within their blissful honeymoon bubble, it was just a matter of time until it burst. He longed for that bubble to stay intact, but alas it was wishful thinking. Oliver didn't let himself get swallowed up by feelings of fear that were nudging him, but he was somewhat anxious about traveling back home. Would they lose what they had during these wonderful few weeks? It was this feeling of anxiety that sent him on his solo walk, while Shane still slept, so he could take some private time to think and pray.
She had shared so much of herself in Madrid. Once again Oliver lost his heart to Shane, as he relived everything she'd said. Her life's path had been full of pain, starting with her father's desertion and all the subsequent heartaches. Shane had humbly accepted she had to live through all those events to become the woman she was today. She also understood now God had been molding her to make way for the day Oliver entered her life, preparing her heart for their relationship and marriage. She went as far to say she had felt her life truly began when she started working at the DLO!
Oh, how he loved her, he thought as he felt his chest tighten. Oliver accepted he'd have to get used to this feeling because it happened every time he thought of Shane. She was so strong, so gracious, so patient. Shane had the biggest heart of anyone he'd ever known. He felt an enormous responsibility to take care of her heart, to nurture it every single day for the rest of his life.
Oliver felt at a crossroads of sorts. After Shane's confessions, he felt the need to share his past with her as well. He knew his past had no more importance now other than paving the path for the man he'd become. However, it was still difficult, not to mention painful to contemplate. There was also that tinge of worry she might look at him differently or even feel differently about him after he had his say. Oliver shuddered at the thought.
Then again, he remembered the words Shane spoke by the Eiffel Tower, that he could share anything with her if he spoke from his heart. Shane had been so candid he knew he had to follow suit and share his past life, previous to their time together at the DLO. Maybe he could finally put his entire past to rest and focus only on his future with his beloved Shane.
Sighing deeply, Oliver let his thoughts drift, falling into the void that were his memories… back to when he was eighteen, when all he felt was anger and a desperate need to rebel.
Oliver stood by her grave trying to get some sort of closure. How could it be that he could feel nothing and everything all at the same time? His mother had passed away the year before and the loss was just as fresh as the day he found out about it. How he could still feel something for a woman who had left him not once, but twice in his lifetime, was something he'd never understand. Oliver angrily wiped away the single tear that rolled down his cheek. He wanted to rip this feeling out of his heart forever and he vowed then and there he'd do whatever it took to accomplish it.
Life with his father got incredibly complicated and more exhausting as each day passed. Looking at him reminded Oliver of everything Joe didn't do to keep his mother by their sides. He was looking forward to graduating high school and moving to Denver. He had already been accepted to the University of Colorado and had a job lined up as a zip code shelver at the Post Office. He couldn't get out of his tiny town fast enough.
College life was a whirlwind. He enjoyed academics more than anybody would expect a young 18-year-old man to do. Oliver excelled at his English and Linguistics majors, writing exceptional dissertations. His advisors wanted him to pursue graduate studies, believing he could've been a wonderful academic and literature professor, but Oliver wanted to move up the ranks in the United States Postal Service. He wanted to follow in his great-grandfather's and grandfather's footsteps. In the meantime, he filled his life with his studies, the swim team, work and girls.
Oliver had been an awkward high schooler. He was intrigued by the opposite sex back then, but not enough to join in with the wild shenanigans of some of his classmates. Mary Therese was his first kiss. Apparently, she was into chess champion freckle faced boys who aced the language section of the SATs. She was the one who had initiated that sloppy, awkward first kiss during the one homecoming dance Oliver dared to attend. He liked Mary Therese a lot, but when he failed to ask her to go steady, she blew him off for some other boy who was ready to do so.
After his mother's death, something disengaged within him. He felt empty. His relationship with his father had deteriorated and his mother was gone. His preferred coping mechanism was self-imposed isolation. It was easier for him that way. He preferred to be alone rather than be pitied or have someone pepper him with questions he didn't want to answer. In general, it was difficult for Oliver to make new friends, but in college, girls gravitated towards him with ease. He set out to fill that emptiness with girls who flirted with, or threw themselves at him. He eventually had numerous relationships, if he could indeed even call them that. Since he had no clear example of what a good relationship should look like, his liaisons were all short-lived.
Even though he considered himself an "odd fellow", Oliver developed a reputation at the University of Colorado as the hunk of the English department. He was a mix of good looks, with a swimmer's physique, not to mention his intelligence and sensitivity that drew college girls to him like a flame. He also treated his girlfriends like true ladies, opening doors, holding out chairs and taking them by the arm. When the timing felt right, he would light the flame with a first kiss.
The way he treated women became legendary on campus. To an outside observer it was ludicrous to say the least, but young women formed a queue for a chance to date Oliver O'Toole. He was the juxtaposition of a roguish gentleman, letting the female of the moment be the one to set the pace. His liaisons more often than not turned out to be of a physical nature. Still, he never dated more than one young lady at a time and always guarded his heart. While he liked all his college flames, he never let himself fall in love with any of them.
Back then, Oliver enjoyed physical intimacy as much as any other red-blooded male. It was that feeling solely focused on finding pleasure that became somewhat addictive. His partners loved how attentive he was, but they didn't know in that pursuit, he was able to vanquish all thoughts of his previous hurts. Oliver was attempting to fill the void he felt with something that could never fill it. A few of his girlfriends had accused him of being unable to feel anything outside the act of lovemaking. At that moment they were right; he just wasn't capable of giving them more.
Still, Oliver fancied himself in love a few times, but he could never verbalize it. He could never say "I love you." Something always stopped him. Rosalie had been one of the few to strike a chord in him. She shared his love for Shakespeare and British literature, but she found his obsession with mail a bit daunting, not to mention eccentric. However, she was sweet and treated him kindly. He still remembered how she cried asking him why he couldn't say he loved her. Oliver simply didn't feel it. He just couldn't say something he didn't feel.
Time passed and he graduated. Oliver continued working his way up the USPS ranks. One day, when he was finally a postal carrier, he met a lady cop on his route. She was a lovely woman, with a very sweet face, and for the first time in his life, he felt something more. Oliver had even been slightly tongue-tied as he tried to start a conversation with her. Even though she found this bit of awkwardness endearing, his reputation preceded him. One of her friends told her about the "infamous" Oliver O'Toole. Of course, as luck would have it, the lady cop's friend was one of his former college girlfriends and she worked at the café where Oliver met the lady cop.
Oliver knew if he wanted to pursue the brave and beautiful Dale Travers, he'd have to change his ways. He decided to find out more about her, her comings and goings. He found out she frequented that café every day before her night shift. He made sure he was on that part of his mail route at the precise time she would be at the cafe. Eventually, the quick hellos and half smiles progressed to talking briefly about work and the weather. Finally, one day she agreed to Oliver buying her coffee. It was a slowly evolving friendship, and both looked forward to the chance of casually spending time together over coffee and conversation.
Dale always had kind words for him, and she became an anchor of sorts for Oliver. Their dates, even though Dale refused to call them that, became a lifeline for Oliver. One day she'd sweetly asked if he'd accompany her to a Sunday service. He was a bit skeptical about attending church, but it was an excuse to spend time with her, so he agreed to go.
Oliver felt something odd that day at church with Dale. He felt welcomed, as if he'd finally come home. Thanks to Dale and that fateful day, he found a community that welcomed him with open arms. Oliver also found out that he could sing. Dale had noticed his rich tenor when he followed along with the hymns at the Sunday services, leading to an invitation to join the choir. Oliver felt his soul lighten when he was at church, especially when he praised and worshipped through song. All this led to a conversation with Pastor Francis. He was very kind and he became his spiritual guide, as his faith and relationship with God deepened and strengthened.
Oliver never ended up asking Dale out on a proper date. They had developed a deep connection, and their friendship had become significant. Oliver didn't want to ruin that. She was his first true friend. He'd forever be grateful to Dale for being part of his life's journey and leading him to God. She'd always have a special place in his heart.
For a while, it was enough to just focus on work, his relationship with God, and his church community. However, the Almighty had other plans. That fateful mailbox explosion ultimately changed not only his career path, but his life as well. Those tattered and mangled letters had led the way to the Dead Letter Office. Restoring what was lost and damaged while impacting and changing lives in the process became his noble calling. Oliver felt directly responsible for the loss of hundreds of letters involved in the mailbox's explosion. If he had only picked them up on time…if only he hadn't been thinking of catching up with Dale… However, since then, he'd realized even the timing of that explosion had been providential and part of God's perfect plan. Trust the timing. Dale always said that. Trust the timing, indeed.
Oliver threw himself into his new job with a fervor few had ever seen within the USPS. Oliver never gave up, even when everything pointed to an undeliverable letter. He accrued a track record of dead letter delivery nobody in the system had seen before. When Rita and Norman joined the ranks, the Denver DLO developed a life of its own. While some might have looked down at the quirky team, no one could question their efficiency. Oliver was so happy he'd found his calling and worked with colleagues who not only had become friends, but also family.
Something was missing, though. Even though he lacked the traditional marriage example through his mother and father's divorce, he remembered his grandparents and the ease and beauty of their relationship. He prayed one day he'd be blessed that way. Oliver presented his longing to God at his church's altar, and as he meditated and prayed over his intentions, he decided he'd wait for that special someone, surrendering his physical urges until he married someone worthy to call his wife. However, life and God, threw their curveballs… and Holly, he believed back then, had been the ultimate test he'd failed.
During a fateful snowy evening, as he drove through a difficult mountain road to deliver a lost letter, he came upon a lady in distress. Oliver did what he understood needed to be done, which was to provide assistance for said lady. After surviving the snowstorm ordeal, Holly had thrown herself at him. He was a man, after all. Who could resist a woman who was not only beautiful, but kept calling him her hero?
Oliver had been seriously conflicted. He had made a promise to keep physical intimacy within the confines of marriage and he had failed. When Holly proposed, he jumped at the chance, wanting to right his wrong. Sadly, that had been yet another mistake. For one, he hadn't anticipated Dale's disappointment when he told her he was marrying Holly, realizing too late she had developed feelings for him. Also, there was no way he could have foreseen Holly's abandonment at the Postal Museum in Washington DC. She wanted the old Oliver or perhaps the misconstrued idea of Oliver she created in her head. When the physical side of their marriage fizzled out, she left, becoming the second woman to leave him. All this opened wounds Oliver thought had mended, but not only had they not, they felt as fresh as the day his mother left. Once again, he became a shell of a man until that fateful day when a spunky beautiful blonde bought his coffee because she was going to be late for work if she waited around for him to figure out how to order his own.
Oliver snapped back to present-day reality as he felt a small wave break at his feet. These memories always found a way to discombobulate him, but he couldn't let them this time or ever again. He needed to get back to Shane and tell her he loved her. He needed to tell her she'd mended his heart. He needed to kiss her, profoundly, reverently. He needed to hold her, to feel their love, and thank God whilst having her in his arms. He'd share all of his contemplations at the beach later because she needed to know him completely. For once he knew there would be no judgement, he was safe with his Shane.
He made his way back to their resort suite, two steaming cups of coffee in hand… his usual black and for his Shane, a café con leche laced with cinnamon. She had just opened her eyes and was stretching out in bed.
"Oliver, you're up way too early. It's illegal to wake up so early during a honeymoon. Didn't you know?"
She looked breathtakingly gorgeous, still drowsy with sleep, her eyelids a bit heavy, her hair in disarray. The sunlight hit her skin, dousing it with a lovely golden glow.
"Good morning, my love. Coffee?"
"Coffee in bed… I must have done something right!" She took the proffered cup and inhaled the rich coffee scent imbued with the aroma of cinnamon. "This is heavenly, darling, thank you so much."
"Can we have coffee in bed, my love?"
Shane looked into his eyes, seeing a smidgen of distress there. Giving him the sweetest smile he'd ever seen, she patted the spot next to her on the bed, silently agreeing to his request.
Oliver cuddled up with Shane, and after she lifted her lips to his for a gentle, loving, good morning kiss, she said, "I could never love anyone as much as I love you. Even the word love falls short of describing how I feel. Tell me what's on your mind, Oliver. I'm always here for you."
Losing himself in her eyes, Oliver took a deep breath, and said, "I've only been able to say 'I love you' to you, my dearest Shane."
Hey sapphire eyes shimmered. "I had an inkling."
Shane touched Oliver's cheek with the palm of her hand, stroking his strong jawline with her thumb. He gently took her hand and kissed it, the strength of his love in that gentlemanly kiss.
And so, Oliver finally poured his heart into Shane's loving hands. And if he had found peace that fateful evening in Paris, here in Spain, by the striking Andalusian coast of Marbella, he was finally free.