Insight Page 23

  “It’s okay,” he said, sitting on the edge of the couch across from her. “Take your time.” He waited for her to collect herself.

  She lifted the flared sleeve of her blouse and dabbed at her eyes.

  “Here—” he jumped up and went into the bathroom and brought her back a wad of tissues.

  “Thanks.” She took them and blotted her cheeks, then blew her nose. She straightened and looked up at him, taking a deep breath. “Reed, I think the world of you. I really do. But I think…” She bit her lip.

  It was all he could do not to take her in his arms quiet her with his kisses so he didn’t have to hear whatever she would say next. But he sat numb while she went on.

  “I think I kind of got mixed up in my grief. I came here with all these hopes and dreams for Derek and me to…to finally have what we’d never had together. To finally be rid of all the baggage of our old marriage. And then he was gone and…well, I was still looking for that. I…I found it in you, but it was—it is—too soon.” She swallowed hard and smiled an apology. “This whole thing with the transplant, realizing it was you who wrote that letter… Well, it served as a wake-up call for me. It made me realize I rushed into things with you. I was so lonely, and you…you’ve been such a good friend. But I can’t stay with things…the way they are. I need some time. I need to sort things out. There’re too many things I’m still working through. And it’s not fair to make you wait while I get my head on straight and—”

  “Olivia, I—”

  “No, please, Reed.” She held up a hand. “Let me finish. I’ve decided to put my house on the market. I’m moving back to Chicago.”

  The breath went out of him and he had to remind himself to take in the next gulp of air. “No, Olivia. Don’t. You don’t have to do that. I’m not going to bug you. I’ll respect your—”

  But she was already shaking her head vehemently. “I have to get away, Reed. I can’t…I can’t live my life wondering when I’ll run into you next. When I’ll see something that reminds me of you…”

  He felt as if she’d struck him. She was eliminating the possibility of them having any contact at all. Saying that she couldn’t stand even to look at him, or think of him. “What will you do…in Chicago?”

  “I don’t know, honestly. I just know I can’t stay here.”

  “Olivia. Please…don’t. I understand this is hard for you, but… Surely you don’t have to leave town!”

  She smiled a crooked smile. “Yes. I do.” Her expression turned serious. “And I truly am sorry to leave without giving you more notice to…” She shook her head and her eyes misted again. “…to find someone to take my place.”

  One solitary thought imprinted itself on his mind: No one could ever take your place, Olivia. No one.

  By the following Friday Olivia’s life had undergone a metamorphosis as profound as the move to Hanover Falls had been. In a whirlwind week, she listed the house on Glenwillow Road, and arranged to stay with Jayne for a few days until an apartment in Chicago became available.

  She’d had a final appointment with Dr. Bennington. The woman had expressed concern to hear Olivia was moving, but she set up an appointment for Olivia with a colleague in Chicago.

  While Olivia had made phone calls and begun to pack up the house again, the maples outside her kitchen window had quietly changed into their autumn cloaks. It struck her that she’d seen three seasons now in Hanover Falls. But autumn would be her last. She would spend the cold winter back home in Chicago.

  As if it had read her thoughts, the wind gusted around the corner of the house and whistled through the back door. Olivia emptied a row of kitchen drawers into a cardboard box. Fortunately, even after her decorating foray a few weeks ago, most of their things—her things—were still in boxes. She taped the box shut and wrote KITCHEN in bold letters on two sides.

  Money would be incredibly tight until this house sold. It depressed her to think how long it might be before that happened. But the Realtor said the housing market in the Falls had improved some over the last few months, and she was hopeful it wouldn’t become an issue.

  It didn’t matter either way. She simply could not stay here.

  She started in on a cupboard, wrapping the breakable items in newspaper. Tiger batted at a crumpled ball of newsprint, but he soon lost enthusiasm for the game and sat watching with narrowed eyes and tail twitching as Olivia taped another box shut.

  Michael and Claire had agreed to take Tiger. She couldn’t think too hard about leaving him behind without the tears starting. But the apartment didn’t allow pets, and Tiger didn’t have a “gravy train” in Chicago. Besides she could never again look at the cat, stroke his soft fur, without thinking of Reed. And wasn’t that the whole purpose of this move? So she wouldn’t think about him?

  She tried to conjure up excitement about going back to Chicago, going home. But all she felt was fear. As much as she’d missed the challenges of her design job and the energy of the city, she was all too aware that she wasn’t going back to the life she’d had before. She’d only seen the apartment in a pixelated photo on the Internet, but it was a far cry from this house. And she’d have to find a job. Probably not until after the baby came. She looked down at the chambray shirt—an old one of Derek’s—stretched so tight over her middle that the buttons gaped. No one would hire her like this.

  If there was anything good about all the changes to come—and the accompanying worry—it was that she had no time to think about what she was leaving. Who she was leaving.

  She should have gone back to Chicago the day after Derek’s memorial service. Then none of this would have ever happened. She would never have met Reed, never had to say goodbye to Michael and Claire, never had to leave her church, or give away this little cat.

  Slowly, the sadness in her heart gave way to anger and a bitter taste rose in her throat. She closed the flaps on another box and yanked the tape dispenser hard across the length of the top.

  While the moving van idled on the street out front, Olivia walked through the house one last time. She had done this very thing so recently in the town house in Chicago. She couldn’t help but compare her state of mind today to the mixture of trepidation and hope that had characterized her last move. Was it really only a little more than seven months ago? Who could have known the events that would transpire in that brief span of time?

  I knew. From the time the foundations of the earth were laid, I knew every detail that would come to pass.

  She started. The words hadn’t come from an audible voice, but she was beginning to recognize that still, small voice. It was the truth, of course. Yet she’d never considered it until this moment. God wasn’t surprised by anything that had happened. Not by Derek’s death, not by the revelation that Reed had been the recipient of Derek’s corneas. And not when she’d conceived Derek’s baby mere days before his death. All along, God had been aware of every minute detail.

  “Ma’am?”

  She turned to see the moving van’s burly driver hulking in the doorway. He held out a sheet of paper. “We’re ready to pull out. I need you to sign this before we take off.”

  The print on the page blurred. She made a show of scanning the legalese, but the words may as well have been in a foreign language. She finally signed her name on the line the driver indicated.

  “Everything is labeled,” she told him. “You have the number for the super? You’ll probably beat me there.”

  He patted his breast pocket. “Don’t worry about a thing, ma’am. It’s all taken care of.” His eyes panned the living room, where several pieces of framed art lined the floor, leaning against the empty walls. “You sure you don’t want us to load the paintings? We’ve never damaged one yet. Besides, should you be lifting anything?” He looked pointedly at her rounded figure.

  She forced a smile. “Thank you, but I’d rather bring them myself. They’re not very heavy.”

  He shrugged in a way that said, “Have it your way, lady.”

 
; She didn’t tell him that selling the paintings might provide her only means of paying his fee.

  When the movers had gone, Olivia walked through the rooms once more. With her professional eyes, she could see that it was a nice place. Good bones. Tons of potential. But to her, it was only an empty, lifeless shell now. Tiger was gone—safely delivered to the Meredith’s—much to little Katherine’s delight—and the house was empty of everything except the paintings and a pile of blankets she’d kept back to wrap them in.

  She closed the door behind the movers and stretched, rubbing the small of her back. Her baby was due in six weeks. Sometimes that seemed forever. Other times—like when she considered what the delivery might be like, going through it alone—it seemed far too close at hand. She’d been careful to let the movers do the lifting, but her aching muscles let her know she’d overdone it the past few days.

  All that remained now was to load the paintings in the car and get on the road. She would be glad to put some miles between her and this place.

  Carefully, she swaddled each painting in a blanket and carried them out to the car two at a time. Walking back into the house for the last time, she saw her own painting leaning on the floor, the last one left to load. The gentle cows stared at her through the patina of oils. The piece still had a powerful effect on her, but now memories swept over her… The day Reed had come to her house and admired the painting, not knowing it was hers. He would never know how his simple compliments had soothed the wounds from Derek’s thoughtless—

  She stopped herself. When would she quit comparing Derek to Reed? That was why she was leaving. To rid herself of the memories that caused her to pit her defenseless husband to a man she’d rashly fallen for. She pinched the bridge of her nose, as if pain would banish the unwanted thoughts.

  She picked up the last blanket wanting to hide the memories beneath its folds. But suddenly she knew what she had to do. The painting had no monetary value. There was no reason to bring it with her. It would only recall things best left in the past.

  She lifted the painting and fit its wire hanger back on the hook in the foyer. Maybe whoever bought the house would enjoy it. If not, they could dispose of it however they saw fit. She didn’t need any reminders of what she was leaving behind.

  Chapter 35

  A mist of snow swirled above the sidewalk like a vapor. Reed tucked the bulky package tighter under his arm and pulled his collar up against the cold as he trudged to the post office. He wondered what the weather was like in Chicago today. Was Olivia warm and safe? He’d heard from her friend, Claire, that Olivia had an apartment, but Claire didn’t know what part of the city it was in, and she hadn’t offered to share the address.

  He’d mailed her final paycheck to her house in the Falls as she’d requested. He’d entertained thoughts of calling her on the guise of making sure the check had arrived safely, but he knew it had. It had come through with his last bank statement.

  The post office lobby was decorated for Halloween. October would soon be over and winter was already making its presence known in the snow that had dusted the Falls last night.

  Intense longing rose in him—to have the summer back, to have back the life that Olivia had been part of. Except for having Maggie help him on Saturdays, he hadn’t hired someone new in the studio. He’d tried to fill the dead quiet of every breaking day with a new stereo system. But no matter what kind of music he played, the lyrics, the very notes themselves seemed only to remind him that Olivia was gone.

  He knew it was irrational, but he couldn’t seem to banish the guilt he felt because of all that had happened. If it weren’t for him, she would have been happy in her new life in Hanover Falls. She’d have had a church where there were friends to love and care for her, and a town where her baby could grow up safe and strong.

  Reed walked out of the post office and looked up into the darkening sky. The branches of the old Dutch elms that towered over the building stood in stark relief, every branch appearing crisp and acute in his vision. His eyesight had only gotten better as the months went by—a fact he was profoundly grateful for, yet one that continually reminded him of the reason Olivia was gone.

  If only…

  There were too many “if onlys” to count. If only he hadn’t written that letter. They could have gone on, maybe never discovering the connection between him and Derek Cline. Or even if he hadn’t signed the letter with his initials. Olivia might have someday shown it to him, but he wouldn’t have had to admit that he’d written it. He could have gone to his grave with that secret and they would have all been better for it.

  And why had God allowed Derek to be the donor for his surgery? Almost any donor could have been a match. It made no sense that it was Derek. In fact, sometimes Reed thought it too much of a coincidence not to have a God-designed reason. But if it were so, that reason remained a dark mystery to him.

  His only prayer now was that God would allow him to forget Olivia. To accept that their friendship had been for a short time. That time had ended and it was time to move on.

  He climbed into the Escape and started for home. He’d wracked his brain to think of a way to help Olivia. He knew she would never accept financial help from him, but surely there was some way to make up to her for all the anguish he’d caused, even inadvertently.

  On a whim, instead of turning left at Main Street, he took a right and headed to the other side of town. His vehicle turned onto Glenwillow Road as though it were on autopilot. Her house came into view just as the sun dipped below the rooftops in the quiet neighborhood. The windows of her house were dark, the grass unruly and scarred by the realty company’s sign piercing the front yard.

  He stared at the block letters announcing FOR SALE. Like lightning, an idea struck him and his excitement grew as the pieces of a puzzle began to snap into place. Maybe there was something he could do after all.

  An icy wind lashed Olivia’s hair about her face, turning each tendril into a whip that stung her skin and reminded her that she hadn’t been to the salon in two months. Haircuts were a luxury she could ill afford these days.

  Keeping her eyes on the sidewalk, she yanked at her coat, trying to pull it tight around her middle, but no amount of tugging could erase the fact that she was huge.

  She rounded a corner and was hit with a blast of foul air. The sky was sooty and the skyscrapers smudged with the grainy stuff. The El thundered overhead as she crossed Lake Street. She clapped her coat collar to her ears and prayed her womb cushioned the baby from the ear-splitting clatter.

  How was it that these same streets used to make her feel alive and energetic? What had changed? Was it the fact that she would never be young and carefree again? Seemingly overnight, the city had become a lonely place, filled with hopelessness.

  Soon she would be responsible for another life. And she felt she had nothing to offer.

  She put her head down and trudged the remaining three blocks to the offices of Interior Ideas on North LaSalle. Elizabeth had offered her part-time work in the office helping with payroll and sometimes playing receptionist. The pay was pathetic and she didn’t enjoy the work, but it was something…and maybe a foot back in the door to her old job. She stared at her protruding belly. She couldn’t exactly be choosy at this point in her life.

  She’d be glad to finally get into the apartment. She’d been at Jayne’s for over a week now and things were growing a little tense. All her things were in storage at the apartment complex, and the super had promised the one-bedroom walk-up would be clean and freshly painted by Wednesday, but he’d promised the same thing last week, so she wasn’t holding her breath.

  The revolving door ushered her into the warmth of the lobby and a few minutes later the elevator opened on the reception area of Elizabeth’s office suite.

  “Good morning,” Bridgett Silvan chirped from her place behind the desk. The pretty blonde was fresh out of college and eternally cheerful.

  “Hi, Bridgett. Busy today?”

  “N
ot too bad. I can probably handle it if you need to work on payroll. Oh, and Elizabeth wants to see you in her office.”

  “Now?”

  Bridgett shrugged. “She said when you came in.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” She started down the hall toward Elizabeth’s office.

  “Oh, wait, Olivia,” Bridgett hollered after her. “I almost forgot. You had a call earlier. Some Realtor? I wrote it down somewhere.”

  Olivia came back to stand by the desk while the girl waded through a pile of memos. “Aha!” She came up with a pink memo and handed it to Olivia. The note was carefully filled out with the name and number for Judy Benton Realty. “You’re supposed to call her back.”

  “Hmmm.” She’d given the Realtor the office number, just in case, after deciding she couldn’t afford to renew her cell phone contract. But she hadn’t expected to hear from her so soon. A reality check followed the surge of anticipation she felt. It was most likely nothing. Judy probably just needed to ask about some detail she’d forgotten to put on the disclosure sheet.

  Still, Olivia couldn’t help feeling hopeful. “Thanks, Bridgett.” She took the memo from the receptionist and tucked it in her pocket. She’d call right after her meeting with Elizabeth.

  When Olivia poked her head in the door, the designer glanced up from the specification sheet she was working on. Olivia had always appreciated Elizabeth’s willingness—even after she’d made it big—to get right in with her team and get her hands dirty.

  “Ah, there you are. Sit down.”

  Olivia took the elegantly skirted chair she offered, growing more curious about why Elizabeth wanted to see her.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Fat.” She laughed, rolling her eyes.

  “You look lovely.”

  “Well, thank you. I’m fine. Just anxious for this to be over.”

  “And I assume you’re planning to work after the baby comes? After maternity leave, of course.”