I went in to grab my backpack, the one that held the jeans I had come in. And as I stepped back into the kitchen, I found him there.
Amy was coughing through a hoarse chuckle. “Never met a host so eager to get rid of his guests. But I hope it was a successful night for you. If you have more of these events, remember me.”
“Everything was perfect, thank you,” Oliver said politely, sternly, like someone who had no patience for chitchat. Just then, he noticed me. It was as if something had seized him mid-sentence. His back straightened even more, but his expression softened. Even Amy noticed it because she turned around to see what had caused it.
“Oh, January, I realized only now that you two probably know each other. Didn’t your mother …?” She didn’t finish the sentence.
I nodded. Knowing Amy and what a pillar of information and gossip she had been in Riviera View for the past sixty or so years, there was no way she didn’t remember that my mom used to work for Mr. Madden before she had invited me here. Maybe that was why she hadn’t disclosed who the event was for.
We both smiled. Oliver and me. It wasn’t that frozen smile I had glimpsed on his face tonight. There was something else in that smile—nostalgia maybe, a shared memory, a secret. For years, we had attended the same school and had never mentioned to others that my mom cleaned his house. Two other kids at school loved bringing up that my mom was their “cleaning lady.” I wasn’t ashamed of her and ignored them, even though the way they’d said it wasn’t supposed to sound as an appreciation for the working class. But Oliver had never said a word.
Oliver made a barely perceptible gesture with his head toward the door behind him. He was now in a white dress shirt and no tie. His sleeves were rolled up to just below his elbows. I was sure both Amy and I appreciated the sight of those bronze-skinned, strong forearms.
“Thanks, Amy. Let me know if you have other events you need me to help with.” I flashed a smile at her, grabbed my bag, and followed Oliver, who had begun to walk out of the kitchen.
“I’ll send you the check,” Amy called after me.
As soon as we reached the corridor that led to the main hall, Oliver spoke. “Thank you for everything tonight, and for staying.”
“No problem.” What was I staying for? What could we possibly talk about? We were different people now.
Two waiters were still clearing the last remnants of the event, and two others were moving furniture, probably putting it back in its original place.
Oliver nodded at the people, mumbled, “Thanks,” and continued to cross the space with me in tow, into a room that opened from it. It was a smaller, cozier living room and library.
Oliver took two mugs that were on a side table, steam rising from them, and handed me one.
“Chamomile tea,” I said, surprised.
“Thought you could use it. Your mom used to make this for me when I was home sick.”
I huffed a reminiscent chuckle. “It’s still her magic formula for pretty much everything.”
Oliver gestured at the couch while he took the chair next to it, and we sat almost facing each other. “How is Julie?”
“Living with Tammy and her family. Retired. Still thinks naming us the way she did is funny.”
He smiled. A genuine smile. I knew from back then how rare that smile was.
My gaze drifted to the crow’s feet at his eyes, the few lines on his forehead, his face that, for me, had aged suddenly. I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
“Tell her I said hi,” Oliver added. The friendly words sounded almost unnatural coming from the man who, less than an hour ago, had seemed like a different person. This was more like the Oliver I had once known—stern and restrained in public, friendly and almost open if he trusted you.
If I was scrutinizing the changes in him, he must have done the same with me, because he leaned forward a bit, the tips of his fingers featherlike, hovering on my knee for a brief second to draw my attention, as if I wasn’t already fully attentive, and added, “You look … great. All grown up.”
I chuckled. “We’re the same age.” I didn’t think time had changed me for the better, but I wasn’t going to argue.
“I know. It’s just …” He stopped mid-sentence, almost as if he thought he was saying too much. “How have you been?”
The moment I dreaded.
I tilted my head to the side, raised my eyebrows, and wore that smile that said,Well, you know… when what you want to say isn’t that great.
“How are Will and Lennox?” Oliver asked when no words followed my expression.
“They’re great. They’re both at the University of Colorado. They got scholarships.” That was only half-true. They were both getting a partial scholarship, and we were hoping they’d get full ones, including living costs because I could barely support them. Given my credit history, and the fact that I still had my own student loans, and the loans I had taken to cover those, my sons had only qualified for a limited federal loan, which I had to pay while they were still in school.
“They must be … nineteen.”
